


Blood Ties 11: Evolution

by Dawn (sunrize83)



Series: Blood Ties [11]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 01:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 42,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16336739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunrize83/pseuds/Dawn
Summary: A missing child. Two opposing theories. Mulder and  Grey face a case that will test the brother bond to its limits. Willthey come out stronger or be torn apart?





	1. Chapter 1

Key West  
Tuesday  
2:43 PM

 

"I still say you should've bought the blue one."

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know why you preferred that  
one, Mulder."

"Exactly. Because it brought out your beautiful blue eyes."

A snort. "It brought out my ass, you mean. Or are you trying to  
claim the fact it was a thong had no bearing on your opinion?"

"Scully I'm hurt that after all our years together you would think  
me so shallow, so one dimensional, so..."

"Typically male?"

Mulder threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Fine. Obviously  
nothing I could say will convince you. And it isn't as if I dislike the  
green suit. You look...amazing in it."

"Thank you." Scully eyed him suspiciously, waiting for the  
inevitable punchline. He didn't disappoint.

He leaned in close, breath sending tingles all the way down her  
spine. "After all, even covered up, it's an incredible ass."

"Mulder..." She broke off, corners of her mouth twitching.

Mulder, braced for a scathing comeback, froze in the act of  
plugging the key into the ignition. "What?"

The smile broadened, but Scully just shrugged her shoulders.  
"Nothing."

Mulder cocked his head, eyebrows raised. "Nothing? I don't think  
so. I just handed you a line guaranteed to get my butt kicked and  
all you do is smile at me? Who are you and what did you do with  
my Scully?"

The grin faded to the barest curve of her lips. "You're happy."

It obviously wasn't what he expected, and she smugly treasured the  
several seconds he spent flustered and off balance. Eventually, his  
eyes softened and he reached across the seat, lacing her fingers  
with his and bringing them to his lips.

"I am. Pretty amazing for a guy who once thought happiness wasn't  
part of his genetic make-up."

"I'm glad."

He shook his head, tugging her across the seat until only inches  
separated them, her face cupped between his palms. "You're  
responsible."

His lips descended, brushing across hers in a soft, almost reverent  
kiss. Nice, she thought, throat tight. Then her arms came up of  
their own volition, one hand snaking around his back, the other  
tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, and she lost herself in  
the taste and feel of him. 

Scully's teeth were fastened on that luscious lower lip, blissfully  
nibbling, when the sensation of being watched intruded. She pulled  
back, glancing over her shoulder. Sure enough, their rather  
enthusiastic display of affection seemed to be drawing more than  
casual attention from passersby. 

"Mulder."

"Hmm?" Undaunted by the removal of her lips, he contentedly  
began feasting on her neck, fingers doing maddening things to her  
right breast.

"We're...ah...in a convertible." 

"Mmm, I know. Isn't it great? The sun...*nibble*...the fresh  
air...*lick*..."

"The audience."

He froze, then removed his hand as if burned. Peering over his  
shoulder, he found himself staring straight into the face of a  
smirking teenage boy, who promptly gave him a "thumbs up."

"You...ah...may have a point. Much as I hate--and I do mean  
HATE--to admit it. Let's go."

He started the car and pulled carefully into traffic. But the smile  
lingered on his lips.

When they arrived at Rosa's house, Mulder shut off the engine and  
turned to her with a far too innocent expression. "How about you  
model that new bathing suit for me again? Then maybe we  
can...um...take a nap before dinner."

Scully arched an eyebrow. "Tired, are we, Mulder?"

In the blink of an eye, innocent became lecherous. "Exhausted."

Whatever response she had planned flew out of her head when the  
door to the house opened and Rosa came out to meet them, brow  
furrowed. "Uh-oh. This doesn't look good."

"I told you we shouldn't let Skinner know where we were going."

They got out of the car. Mulder walked to meet Rosa while Scully  
pulled the spoils of their shopping trip from the back seat before  
joining them.

"Thank heavens you two are back. He's called three times since ten  
this morning." Rosa ushered them toward the house as she spoke.

"I'm sorry, Rosa. When I gave him the number, I never really  
thought he'd use it." Mulder glanced at Scully in irritation. "So  
much for the belated honeymoon."

"It must be important, Mulder, you know he'd never..."

"I can't imagine what could be important enough to harass Rosa."  
Mulder turned to the older woman, face contrite. "Rosa, I'm sorry  
about this. Skinner had no right to..."

Her face scrunched up. "Skinner? You mean your boss, Walter?  
'Lena's friend? What does he have to do with anything?"

Mulder stopped, one hand on the doorknob, to exchange a  
perplexed glance with Scully. She turned to Rosa with a small  
shake of her head.

"Rosa, I think we're confused. We assumed Wal...Mr. Skinner was  
the person who's been calling for us."

Rosa pushed past him and entered the house, shaking her head  
bemusedly. "Ay! Don't they teach you FBIs not to leap to  
conclusions? Walter isn't the one who's been ringing that phone off  
the hook, Fox. It's that brother of yours. Grey."

"Grey?" Mulder followed her into the kitchen, Scully on his heels.

Rosa handed him a pad of paper. On the top sheet she'd jotted  
Grey's name and cell phone number followed by three times:  
10:00, 12:15, and 2:20. Something twisted unpleasantly in  
Mulder's stomach and his mouth went dry. The sensation must  
have bled through to his face, because Scully laid her hand on his  
arm.

"No more jumping to conclusions. Just call him."

He nodded. "I think... I'm going to use the phone in the bedroom."

The bedroom's dim coolness did little to alleviate the perspiration  
beading his upper lip. Mulder swiped at it absently with the back  
of one hand, then reached for the phone. Grey answered on the first  
ring.

"This is Grey McKenzie."

"Grey, it's Fox."

"Thank God. I've been trying to reach you for hours."

No small talk. No inquiry as to how he and Scully were enjoying  
their vacation. Mulder swallowed; mentally shored up his defenses.

"What is it? What's wrong? Is it Kristen?"

"No, Kristen is fine. She's at a seminar in Chicago."

"Then what?"

"It's Claire. Something's happened to Claire."

An image of Grey's niece, bright-eyed and triumphant as she hit a  
baseball, flashed through Mulder's mind. He'd become acquainted  
with all of the children in Grey's family, but Claire held a special  
place in his affections.

"Claire? Was there an accident? Is she hurt?"

"She's gone, Fox. Vanished. Kira put her to bed last night, just like  
always. When she came to get her for breakfast this morning,  
Claire wasn't there."

"Was she upset about anything? Could she have run away, be  
hiding somewhere nearby?"

"We've scoured the area, talked to neighbors. There's been no sign  
of her, and no one saw anything." His voice hardened. "There's  
something else you should know. Kira's ex-husband turned up a  
few weeks ago, got himself a lawyer. He's been causing trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"He's petitioning for visitation rights. He wants to see Claire."

Mulder let the implication of his brother's words sink in. "Do you  
really think he's capable...?"

The malice in Grey's tone startled him. "I know he is."

"All right, I'm on my way. Give us a chance to pack up and catch  
the next flight out of here. I'll let you know when we'll be arriving,  
but don't bother picking us up--we'll rent a car."

"Fox, I..." Grey's voice broke but he struggled to continue. "I don't  
know how to..."

Quietly. "Then don't. Hang on, we'll be there soon."

Scully was leaning in the doorway, face grave. "Grey's niece is  
missing?"

Mulder gave a quick nod as he pulled their suitcases out of the  
closet and began emptying drawers. "Kira hasn't seen her since she  
put her to bed last night. No one seems to know what happened."

Scully walked over to the bed and began organizing her own  
clothing. She glanced at Mulder from the corner of one eye as she  
laid shorts, tee shirts, and slacks into the suitcase. "But Grey thinks  
he does."

Mulder fished a pair of running shoes from under the bed. "You  
remember what Grey told us about Kira's ex?"

Scully's lips thinned. "He was physically abusive. She put up with  
it until he started to act out on Claire. It was what finally gave her  
the courage to divorce him."

"He disappeared about five years ago, right after the divorce. Has  
never paid a dime in alimony or child support. As far as Kira was  
concerned, it was good riddance."

"I can see where this is going. He showed up again, didn't he?  
Does Grey really think he's responsible for Claire's  
disappearance?"

Mulder snorted. "Think it? He's convinced. I can't say I blame him,  
considering the guy's history. And the fact that he's been trying to  
get his parental rights reinstated." Mulder stood up straight,  
shoving his fingers through hair already tousled by the trip in the  
convertible. "Scully, I'm so sorry. This was supposed to be..."

Her fingers, pressed gently against his lips, stopped the flow of  
words. "Hey, he's my brother, too. I'll call the airport; find out how  
soon we can get a flight."

He stared into her eyes for a long moment as if judging the  
sincerity of her statement. Slipping both arms around her waist he  
tugged her close, chin brushing the top of her head.

"I love you."

"I know."

She could feel his surprise at her unexpected joke, first in the  
released tension of his body and then in the smile pressed to her  
forehead. "Go ahead and make that phone call, Leia. I'll finish  
packing."

She was able to book a 5:15 plane to Miami, where they could  
catch a connecting flight. They wouldn't land in Raleigh until  
nearly eleven, but she knew Mulder would rather endure the  
inconvenience than wait until morning. 

She set the receiver in its cradle and just watched him for a  
moment, unable to shake a feeling of melancholy. He'd already  
thrown off the easy, relaxed aura of a man on vacation. The quick,  
efficient movement of his hands, stiff posture, and sharp, focused  
gaze all screamed Special Agent Mulder. Gone was the man who  
had coaxed her onto the beach in the middle of the night, spread a  
blanket, and made love to her under the stars. Scully drew in a  
slow breath, then released it in a rush, squaring her shoulders.  
Well, it had been glorious while it lasted.

Mulder looked up at her, eyebrows raised, and she smiled. "I'm  
going to go down and let Rosa know what's happening. Though  
knowing her, she's already figured most of it out."

His grin was brief, but genuine. "Not much gets past her, does it?"

Rosa was on the patio, a glass of lemonade on the table before her,  
the umbrella shading her from the unfettered heat of the late  
afternoon sun. She motioned Scully to sit down, concern written on  
her kind face.

"The honeymoon is over, eh?"

Scully's lips curved. "Mulder's right. Not much gets past you."

Rosa made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Three phone calls.  
And his voice... There was great pain."

"His niece is missing. It looks as if she's been kidnapped."

Rosa gazed at her, empathy clouding her brown eyes. "Dios mio.  
Too much sorrow to touch one life."

It took Scully a moment to realize Rosa was speaking of Mulder,  
not his brother. "My mother says it's the strongest character that  
God gives the most challenges."

Rosa's weathered brown hand covered hers. "Your mama is a wise  
woman, chiquita. It would seem He has challenges for you both."

The rasp of the patio door announced Mulder's presence. Rosa  
stood and looked up at him, gaze shrewd. "You are ready?"

One corner of Mulder's mouth turned up. "As much as I'll ever be."

She bobbed her head, understanding the depth of his response.  
Linking one arm with Mulder's and the other with Scully's, she led  
them into the house, to the front door where their suitcases sat  
forlornly on the smooth tile. While Mulder carried them out to the  
car, Rosa embraced Scully.

"God give you strength for what lies ahead."

Scully blinked back the hot rush of tears, tightening her arms.  
"Thank you. For everything."

"De nada. It was my pleasure."

Mulder had returned to stand at Scully's shoulder, shuffling his  
feet. When Rosa released Scully he leaned down, catching the  
older woman in a bear hug and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Come and visit us in DC. You're always welcome."

Rosa chuckled, her laugher vibrating against his chest. "Ay, you  
keep it too cold up there! Maybe this summer." 

She stepped back, holding his face between her palms, her  
expression intense. "I sense a difficult path ahead of you, hijo mio.  
The darkness can pull souls together or tear them apart. You must  
choose." She patted his cheek and dropped her hands. "Tell that  
brother of yours that the little one is in my prayers. As are you all."

"Thank you. I will."

Mulder slipped his arm around Scully as they walked to the car.  
"She's right, you know. Whatever happens--this isn't going to be  
easy. For any of us."

She squeezed the fingers curled around her waist before crossing to  
her door. "Nine years, Mulder. Easy has never been part of our  
vocabulary."

He chuffed softly and started the car. "You got me there, babe."

As they pulled out of the driveway they waved to Rosa, little more  
than a muted shadow behind the screen door. She watched until the  
car turned the corner and disappeared.

"Keep an eye on them, Waldo," she murmured. "Keep them safe."

 

Raleigh, NC  
Tuesday  
11:56 PM

 

Mulder stared out the window at the field of twinkling lights, the  
low buzz humming through his body ratcheting up a notch. The  
already long flight, extended by a delay in Miami, left him feeling  
stretched tight, like a rubberband ready to snap. The burden of  
Grey's need weighed heavily on his shoulders, conspiring to keep  
him wide-eyed and sleepless throughout the trip. Whatever  
unpleasantness lay ahead once the plane hit the ground would be  
preferable to the forced inactivity of the past seven hours.

A passing flight attendant motioned for him to raise his seatback.  
Mulder nodded, shifting carefully so as not to dislodge the heavy  
head on his shoulder. Scully's face, soft and peaceful in sleep, was  
a balm to his restless spirit. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind  
her ear, then skimmed his finger down the smooth skin of her  
cheek. The steady cadence of her breath skipped a beat, her lashes  
fluttering open to reveal blue eyes still cloudy with sleep.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty. We're about to land."

Scully blinked and sat up, stretching catlike before pressing the  
button to raise her seat. She fussed for a moment with crumpled  
hair, then gave up.

"I can't believe I slept through the whole flight."

Mulder glanced down at her, lips quirking. "My fault. I didn't  
exactly let you get a full eight hours last night."

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "Believe me when I  
say I will always forgive you that kind of transgression."

He slipped his hand over hers where it rested on the seat arm,  
turning once again to look out the window. Scully watched the  
amusement drain from his features, replaced by a wary, pensive  
expression.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Nah. I was having too much fun watching the guy across the aisle  
drool."

Scully flipped her hand and wove her fingers between his. "You'll  
do what you can, Mulder. We both will."

He blew out a long breath, staring down at their joined hands. "I  
keep thinking about Kira, how helpless she must feel. She's got to  
be out of her mind with worry."

"Kira's a survivor, Mulder. She must possess a core of steel to  
endure everything she has and to overcome it. Don't sell her short."

*Don't compare her to your mother*, she wanted to add. *Not  
everyone falls to pieces in the midst of tragedy. Some actually  
persevere and grow stronger.*

Mulder was silent as they debarked, collected their suitcases, and  
arranged for a rental car. Scully let him be, well aware of the  
headspace he'd entered as he prepared to immerse himself in what  
was essentially a kidnapping case--albeit one with a truckload of  
emotional baggage.

The late hour and nearly deserted roads shortened the thirty-minute  
trip to twenty, getting them to the precinct at the ungodly hour of  
1:15 a.m. Scully shivered as she stepped out of the car, the chill  
magnified by skin grown accustomed to sunshine and tropical  
breezes. They'd changed clothes during the layover in Miami,  
trading shorts and tee shirts for jeans and sweaters, and she was  
now profoundly grateful.

Mulder tugged open the glass door and guided her through,  
squinting in the glare from bright fluorescent lights. A lone  
sergeant posted behind the front desk was the only sign of life in  
the otherwise deserted lobby. He stood as they approached, brown  
eyes locked onto Mulder's face. 

Mulder reached for his ID. "Hi. We're..."

"No introduction necessary--one look at that mug of yours tells it  
all. You must be Fox." Lips twisting into something between a  
smirk and a grin, he extended a meaty hand. "Joe Wade. Grey said  
to expect you both."

Mulder allowed his hand to be swallowed in a bone-crushing grip,  
amused when Wade shook Scully's as if her fingers were made of  
glass. 

"Your brother is in the conference room--down that way, third  
door on the left." The smile slid off Wade's face, transforming him  
from desk clerk to grizzled veteran. "I think they're about ready to  
pack it in. Not much more to be done tonight."

"Thanks."

"I suppose that means there haven't been any breakthroughs,"  
Scully murmured as they moved down the hallway. 

"Did you think there would be?"

She lifted one shoulder. "I guess a small part of me was still  
holding out hope that it was all a big mistake. Whether that meant  
finding Claire camped out at a friend's house or brought home by  
her father with a credible explanation."

The conference room door hung slightly ajar and they could hear  
Grey's voice, terse and impatient. "There has to be something else  
we can do, some other avenue to pursue."

His partner's response was patient but weary. "Grey, it's after one  
in the morning. We've put out the APB on Talbot, filed a missing  
persons report on Claire. There's just not much more we can do  
until morning. For God's sake, go home and get some sleep while  
you can."

"How do you expect me to sleep when my niece is out there  
somewhere, most likely in the hands of the bastard who used to  
abuse her? Anyway, Fox and Dana..."

"Are here." Mulder nudged open the door and they stepped inside. 

Mark Preston sat slumped over a table, arms folded. Spread across  
its surface were various file folders, reports, and pictures. Across  
the room Grey ceased pacing like a caged tiger and propped his  
hands on his hips, a strained smile erasing the scowl from his face.

"What took you so long, little brother? I was beginning to worry  
you'd ditched us for one more night in paradise."

"Our flight was delayed a bit. Guess I should've called."

Scully surprised them both by simply walking over and slipping  
her arms around Grey's waist. "I'm so sorry, Grey. We'll do  
whatever we can to help."

A moment's hesitation and then his arms came up, much of the  
tension leaving his body in a whoosh. His voice dropped to barely  
more than a whisper but remained steady. "Thanks, darlin'."

"How's Kira holding up?" Mulder circled the table as he spoke,  
eyes roving over each piece of paper.

"She's scared." Grey chuffed, watching his brother prowl. "Pissed.  
My little sister isn't one to give up without a fight. My folks took  
her home with them about an hour ago."

Mark caught Scully's eye and tilted his head toward the door. She  
dipped her chin slightly and stepped out of Grey's embrace. 

"It's been a long day for us all. I know I could use a shower and  
something hot to drink. Grey, why don't we go back to your place?  
You can bring Mulder and me up to speed on what you know so  
far, and we can all grab a few hours of sleep."

"Grey, you live ten minutes from here," Mark said when his  
partner hesitated. "If anything comes up, you'll be the first to  
know. Go on."

Propriety toward his brother and Scully achieved what Mark's  
previous badgering could not. Grey's shoulders slumped and he  
nodded. "Guess you're right. Y'all deserve a break before I start  
asking you to jump through hoops."

Mulder looked up, mouth twitching. "No problem. Your buddy  
Walt's always telling Scully and me that managing the X-Files is  
like running a circus."

Grey shook his head, but a little of the bleakness left his eyes.  
"Don't take this the wrong way, Fox. But I'm not surprised."

 

Eagle Rock  
Wednesday  
2:33 AM

Scully shuffled into the family room, hair damp, face scrubbed  
clean of make-up, and clad in worn sweats. Grey handed her a mug  
of steaming tea, relinquishing his seat beside Mulder and moving  
to a chair across from the couch. She melted into the soft cushion  
with a contented sigh and took a long sip.

"Have you two come up with a game plan?"

Mulder slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Well, I definitely  
want to see the crime scene--" He winced. "Claire's bedroom. And  
I need to talk to Kira. If her ex does have Claire, I need to get a  
better handle on what we're dealing with."

"We've had his apartment under surveillance all day. There hasn't  
been hide nor hair of him." Grey spoke through gritted teeth. "He's  
got her. I'd bet money on it."

"You're probably right. The overwhelming majority of child  
kidnappings are perpetrated by a parent or other family member.  
But you're a cop, Grey. You of all people know the danger in  
prematurely narrowing the focus of an investigation."

"Don't patronize me, Fox. You weren't around when Kira was  
married to that bastard; you don't know what it was like. Bruises  
up and down her arms, split lips, black eyes. I've seen first hand  
what the son of a bitch is capable of."

"Hey." Mulder's soft, even response brought his brother up short.  
"I'm on your side, remember? You asked for my help, Grey; you  
have to trust me to give it. We both know you're way too close to  
this one."

Grey looked ready to protest, but his eyes slipped shut and he  
nodded. "Yeah. I guess I am." He pinned Mulder with a look of  
fierce determination. "But don't expect me to just sit back and let  
you drive on this one. I can't do that."

One corner of Mulder's mouth turned up. "Fair enough."

"Grey, I'm not sure how to ask this, but..." Scully took another sip  
from her mug as she chose her words. "Kira has always impressed  
me as strong and independent. How--"

"--did someone so intelligent wind up married to such a loser?"  
Grey asked.

"Something like that."

Grey sighed, propping his chin on steepled fingers. "I'm not sure I  
have an answer for you. I can tell you that Shannon was a tough  
act to follow: cheerleader, homecoming queen, fellas lining up to  
take her out on a date. Kira was always quieter, a little more  
serious and, I don't know--introspective? It tended to put guys off.  
Steve Talbot saw what a lot of them didn't--the girl inside. And he  
can be very charming when he sets his mind to it. He swept my  
baby sister off her feet." 

Grey's fingers curled into fists. "By the time Kira truly realized  
what she'd gotten herself into she had his ring on her finger and his  
child inside her body. She toughed it out for five years before  
finally calling it quits."

Mulder leaned forward. "Talbot disappeared for nearly five years  
before showing up here again. Do you have any idea where he was  
and what he was doing during that time?"

"Other than dodging alimony and child support, you mean?" Grey  
shook his head. "Supposedly he was living in Atlanta for the past  
year and a half, freelancing for the local newspapers. He's a  
photographer. Before that?" He shrugged. 

"We need to track down every move he made after he and Kira  
divorced. If he does have Claire--and yes, I'm still saying 'if'--it's  
likely he might revisit one of his old haunts."

"I've got just the person for the job." Grey frowned. "Speaking of  
which--does Walt know I dragged you two into this?"

Mulder let his head drop back, then rolled it from side to side in an  
effort to loosen tight muscles. "We're technically still on vacation.  
I don't see that we need ol' Walt's approval."

Scully dug her elbow into his waist, eliciting a gust of air and a  
glare. "He's right, Mulder. Skinner thinks we're in Florida, soaking  
up sun on the beach. If word gets back to him that we're knee-deep  
in a kidnapping case, he'll go ballistic. I'll give him a call in the  
morning."

"Yes, dear."

Grey smiled at her, but his eyes were shadowed with grief and  
regret. "Fox wouldn't let me tell him, so I'm gonna say it to you,  
darlin'. I'm sorrier than I can say about taking you away from your  
vacation. I'll make it up to y'all, I promise."

Scully reached over to place her hand on top of his. "There's  
nothing to apologize for, Grey. We're right where we want to be."

Grey squeezed her hand and then stood. "I think I'd better let you  
two get some sleep. I know it was a long flight, and you both are  
looking pretty rough around the edges. I was hoping to head back  
to the station as soon as it's light."

Scully took her mug into the kitchen, then popped her head back  
around the corner. "I'm going up. You coming, Mulder?"

"I'll be there in a minute." When she'd disappeared, he called,  
"Don't hog the blanket."

Her indignant reply drifted from the stairs. "I do NOT hog the  
blanket."

Mulder smirked at Grey and nodded.

Scully's voice, fainter now. "I saw that, Mulder."

Grey blew out a long breath and shook his head. "That is a  
dangerous woman."

"Tell me something I don't know." Mulder studied his brother.  
"You're not going to sleep at all, are you?"

Grey looked away. "I'm too wired. I think I'll go over the file one  
more time, see if I might have missed anything."

"You're not going to do Kira or Claire any good by running  
yourself to the ground, Grey. The best thing you can do for them  
right now is get some rest."

"This from the world's worst insomniac."

Mulder chuckled. "The voice of experience." The humor faded and  
he grasped his brother's arm. "We're going to find her, Grey."

Grey's lips curved into a smile that never touched his eyes. He  
patted Mulder's cheek; turned away. "Don't a make a promise you  
might not be able to keep, little brother."

Mulder opened his mouth to protest; found he couldn't. 

Grey tipped his head toward the stairs. "You've got a beautiful  
woman waiting to steal the blanket from you. Go on."

He hesitated, wishing for words that would take the darkness from  
his brother's eyes, words that could give Grey something solid,  
something concrete to hang onto. Words that didn't exist.

"Go on, Fox. I'm all right."

So he went, unable to shake the vague feeling that he'd failed  
before he'd begun.

 

Raleigh  
Wednesday  
7:48 AM

 

"I just spoke to Collins. Still no activity at Talbot's apartment."  
Mark's head seesawed back and forth as he watched Grey pace. 

"What about Atlanta? Is someone checking out his old place?"

"We put the local boys on it. Haven't heard back yet."

"We need to stay on top of them, make sure..." Grey turned, words  
trailing off as he really looked at his partner for the first time all  
morning. "You look like hell."

Tie missing, shirt rumpled, and in definite need of a razor, Mark  
grinned wearily up at him. "I feel like hell. It's a matched set."

"I completely forgot you've been here all night. Why didn't you say  
something?" He held up a hand before Mark could answer. "Never  
mind. I guess I know why. Go home, partner."

"You sure? I'll stay if you need me." A jaw-cracking yawn  
lessened the sincerity of his words.

"Nah, we'll be fine."

Mark shoved back his chair and stood. "Don't have to tell me  
twice. I'll check in later, after sleep and a shower."

Grey wrinkled his nose. "I'd reverse the order if I were you."

"Ha, ha."

Mark shuffled to the door, stepping aside to admit Mulder and  
Scully, each carrying two cups of coffee.

"I'll just take mine to go." He liberated Scully of one cup, raising it  
in a "cheers" gesture. "See y'all later."

"I sent him home." Grey accepted a cup from Mulder's  
outstretched hand and took a long draught. His eyebrows shot up  
and he lifted the cup to examine it more closely. "This is NOT  
from the pot down the hall."

"Even Mulder wouldn't drink the stuff in the pot down the hall--  
and that's saying something." Scully ignored her partner's mock  
pout. "We bumped into Sergeant Wade on his way out the door  
and he showed us the little place around the corner."

Grey took another sip. Sighed. "Remind me to thank him." He  
jerked his thumb at a file folder on the table. "Preliminary forensic  
results."

Scully sat down and pulled the folder toward her while Mulder  
loomed at her back. "What have we got?"

"One word. Nothing." 

Scully looked up. "Nothing?"

Grey looked as if he was barely containing the desire to hurl the  
coffee against the wall. "No signs of forced entry. No fingerprints--  
other than Claire's and Kira's. No extraneous fibers, hairs. It's as if  
she just...disappeared into thin air."

Scully flipped through the paperwork in the folder. "This is  
preliminary, Grey. They've still got a couple partial prints to check  
and..."

"And we're going to go over the scene again, with a fine-toothed  
comb." Mulder came around to prop a hip on the table. "As  
someone once told me, the answers are there. You just have to  
know where to look for them."

Scully pursed her lips and looked up at him. "Sounds like a wise  
person."

His reply was interrupted by a soft, feminine voice. "Grey?

Three heads swiveled as one to find Kira standing tentatively in the  
doorway. Eyes shadowed with grief and exhaustion brightened  
when she saw Mulder and Scully.

"Fox. Dana. You're here."

"Of course we are." Mulder stood and crossed the room. "We came  
as soon as we could."

She squeezed his hand; looked over at Scully. "Thank you." 

"How are you, Kira?" His voice communicated much more than  
the words--compassion, sorrow, concern, support.

"She's going to be all right." Kira swallowed, tipped her chin up.  
"With you, Dana, and Grey working together, I know we'll find  
Claire soon."

"We're going to do everything we can for Claire." Mulder looked  
at her intently. "But how are *you*, Kira?"

Tears welled up but Kira blinked them back. "I can't think about  
me right now, Fox. If I do, I'll have to think about me without  
Claire. And I...I can't do that."

"Come and sit down, Kira." Scully pulled out the chair beside her.  
"We need to ask you some questions."

Kira accepted the chair but grimaced. "I've been over this so many  
times I'm beginning to feel like a recording. Don't you have it  
down by now?"

Scully smiled. "Bear with us. There's always the possibility that  
telling it one more time will jog your memory to uncover a detail  
you may have forgotten. And the same story can sound different to  
a fresh pair of ears."

Kira ducked her head. "You know I'll do anything..."

Mulder grabbed a chair from the other side of the table and  
straddled it, arms folded across the back. "Tell us about the night  
before Claire went missing, Kira. What did you do that evening,  
before she went to bed?"

Kira sighed; brushed her fingers through the chestnut curls that  
framed her face. "It was an extremely ordinary evening. Nothing  
unusual or exciting happened."

"That's all right. Just walk us through it."

"All right. I guess this is your party." She paused. "After dinner..."

"What did you have for dinner?"

She stared at him with raised brows. "What did we have for  
*dinner*?" When Mulder nodded she gave her head a little shake.  
"I'm not sure I... Wait a minute. It was chicken. I started out baking  
it in the oven, but the electricity was on the fritz so I wound up  
grilling it instead."

"What do you mean, 'the electricity was on the fritz'?"

"It kept flickering. Going out for a few minutes and then coming  
back on."

Mulder looked at Grey, who shook his head. "I doubt anyone  
checked. Power was on when we got there, so we had no reason  
to."

Kira's gaze darted between their faces. "What are you saying? You  
think that has something to do with Claire's disappearance?"

"Just covering the bases, sweetheart." Grey's easy smile couldn't  
hide the flicker of excitement in his voice.

"So you ate dinner. What happened after that?" Mulder asked.

"Claire had some homework, a project for school. She had to make  
a diorama for a book she'd read-- 'Charlotte's Web.' We worked on  
it together until it was time for her to go to bed." Kira pressed  
fingers to her lips, blinking furiously. "She was so proud of it. It's  
still sitting on the kitchen table."

Scully got her a cup of water from the cooler and they waited in  
silence while Kira sipped, composing herself. She met Mulder's  
eyes and nodded.

"The police report says you put Claire to bed about eight-thirty.  
And that you checked on her again at ten-thirty."

Kira nodded. "Right before I went to bed."

"Think carefully--did anything unusual happen during that time?  
Any odd noises, phone calls, anything at all."

Kira hesitated; firmly shook her head. "Nothing. Claire went right  
to sleep and was sleeping soundly when I checked on her."

"And you didn't hear anything during the night?"

"No. And I'm a light sleeper. Which is why I couldn't believe it  
when I went to wake her and she was gone. I can't understand how  
she could have been taken out of the house without me hearing  
something." Her voice broke and this time tears spilled down her  
cheeks as she thumped her fist against the tabletop. "I should have  
heard something."

Mulder placed a hand over hers. "Kira, this wasn't your fault. You  
know that, don't you?"

She didn't remove her hand, but her eyes evaded his. "She's my  
child, Fox. I'm responsible for her safety."

"And you exercised that responsibility. You had her in a locked  
house, tucked into her bed. Whatever happened, it was beyond  
your control. You did all the right things. Never doubt that."

Kira's reply was barely audible. "But it wasn't enough. Was it?"

Mulder shook his head and sat back. "Sometimes it isn't."

The hidden sorrow in his words pulled Scully's attention from  
Kira. She knew much about Claire's disappearance would trigger  
painful memories, but Mulder's face betrayed nothing except  
compassion.

"Kira, I have a final question, and I'd like you to think very  
carefully before you answer."

"Okay."

Mulder took a deep breath. "Do you think your ex-husband is  
responsible for Claire's disappearance?"

Kira's gaze darted to Grey's face before she looked Mulder  
squarely in the eye. "No. I don't."

Grey hissed and stood up, face twisted into a scowl. "Listen, Kira,  
I..."

"No, it's time for YOU to listen, Grey. Because you haven't, so  
far." Kira's sharp retort startled them all. She turned back to  
Mulder and Dana, voice softer but eyes like flint. "I will be the first  
person to admit that marrying Steve Talbot was one of the worst  
mistakes of my life. He's controlling, manipulative, and has a nasty  
temper." She grimaced. "Not to mention a helluva backhand. I've  
never regretted ending my marriage. It was the best thing for me,  
and for Claire.

"I've known the man for nearly twelve years; lived with him for  
five of them. I know what he is and isn't capable of. He's hurt  
Claire and me, yes, in the heat of the moment when he's lost  
control. But something like this--calculated? Planned? It's not in  
him."

Grey stalked back to brace his palms on the table, leaning into  
Kira's space. "How can you still defend him? He came back here to  
get Claire, didn't he? Is it such a stretch to think he'd take matters  
into his own hands?"

"He came back to SEE Claire, Grey. He didn't even ask for full  
custody, just visiting privileges. For God's sake, he hired a lawyer-  
-what kind of kidnapper does that?"

"A desperate one."

Kira laughed bitterly. "Yeah? Well, I have news for you--he didn't  
have anything to be desperate about. My lawyer already warned  
me the judge would probably allow Steve to see Claire on a limited  
basis, under supervision."

Grey looked as if she'd slapped him. "How...? He hit her, Kira!  
Why would a judge let him anywhere near her?"

Kira shrugged. "According to Steve, he's cleaned up his act. He  
hasn't taken a drink in over a year." She huffed. "He even took a  
class on anger management."

Grey stared at her a moment, then abruptly straightened. "Son of a  
bitch." It was more of a growl than a curse, punctuated by his foot  
connecting solidly with the plastic chair. He stalked out the door  
without pausing or looking back.

Thick silence blanketed the room until Mulder shoved his own  
chair back. "I, uh..." He tipped his head toward the hallway and  
Scully nodded.

As Mulder followed his brother, Scully focused her attention on  
the woman seated beside her. Kira had dropped her head into her  
hands, face hidden by a curtain of dark curls.

"Are you all right?"

Kira's snuffle of laughter held a ragged edge. "All right? My baby  
is missing, could be in the hands of...of..." She sucked in a shaky  
breath. "And my damn brother can't let go of an old grudge long  
enough to do his job."

"That's not fair, Kira. He's doing everything he can to find Claire--I  
don't think he slept a wink last night."

Kira's shoulders slumped and she lowered her hands to look at  
Scully. "I know he is. But, Dana, he's letting his hatred for Steve  
blind him to any other possibilities. And that terrifies me."

"He asked Mulder and me to help--remember? On some level I  
think he recognizes his own bias. To tell you the truth, I'm  
surprised he's been allowed lead the investigation--he's too close to  
this."

"They almost pulled him off. If it hadn't been for Mark, I'm sure  
they would have." Kira scrubbed at bloodshot eyes. "Maybe it  
would have been best if they had."

"You don't mean that."

Kira traced the woodgrain of the tabletop with one finger. "I don't  
know. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure what I'm feeling right  
now. Dana, I love my brother, and I know he loves me. But  
sometimes I'm not sure the Kira he loves is a real person.  
Sometimes... Sometimes I don't think he really knows me at all."

She sighed and shook her head, eyes hardening. "I loved Steve  
Talbot. A part of me still does, though I'd never admit it to my  
family. I know Grey likes to think of me as this sweet, innocent  
child, seduced and deceived by Steve. But the truth of the matter is  
that I saw the dark and dangerous side to him." She looked at  
Scully defiantly. "And I liked it."

Scully's lips curved. "If you're expecting to shock me, you've  
missed the mark." She laughed quietly at Kira's raised eyebrows. "I  
was raised by a sea captain in a household run with military  
precision, Kira. I'm well aware of how tiresome being a 'good girl'  
can become. I've fallen for one or two bad boys myself."

"Yeah?" Kira smiled and a little of the weariness melted from her  
face. " But you're with Fox now, and he'd hardly be considered...  
What?"

Scully's smile had become a smirk. "Let's just say Mulder's not  
exactly the poster boy for FBI agents. And if you polled my family  
on whether he's a suitable partner for me, well, you'd get mixed  
results."

Kira digested this information, her smile slowly fading. "I know  
my family will never understand what I saw in Steve. But he is  
Claire's father. Maybe he's been a pretty poor excuse for one, but I  
believe in his own way he loves her. And he wouldn't do this,  
Dana. He wouldn't."

Scully gave Kira's arm a gentle squeeze. "If there's one thing you  
can count on about Fox Mulder, it's that he's never afraid to think  
outside the box. He's going to go by the evidence, Kira, not  
popular opinion."

Kira bit lip, eyes welling with tears. "Thank you."

Before Scully could respond, Grey stuck his head inside the door.  
"Dana, we're going to head over to the house now. Fox went to get  
the car."

Scully gave Kira's arm another quick squeeze, then stood and  
headed for the door. 

Grey's eyes remained on Kira, who was nervously gathering up her  
purse, as Scully walked past. "I'll be there in a minute."

Kira slipped the straps over her shoulder and headed for the door,  
eyes on the floor. Grey's extended arm stopped her, and her head  
snapped up, eyes blazing. 

"What is it, Grey? Because I don't..."

"I'm sorry."

The broken, lost tone of his voice defused her anger but not the  
hurt inside. "Okay."

"I just..." Grey looked away, blinking hard. "I'm scared, Mouse.  
This is my job; it's what I'm supposed to be good at. And I'm so  
afraid of letting you down. Of letting Claire down."

Kira's breath hitched and she lurched forward, wrapping her arms  
around his waist and burying her face in his shirt. "I understand,  
Grey." She choked out the words past a throat filled with tears.  
"I'm afraid it's too late for me. I think I've let her down already."

 

133 Waterbrook Lane  
Wednesday  
9:02 AM

 

The diorama sat forlornly on the kitchen table, just as Kira  
described. Inside it a pink construction paper pig gazed up at a  
dangling yarn spider. Scully picked up a sheet of notebook paper  
and perused the painstakingly neat cursive, lips quirking at Claire's  
passionate diatribe against the butchering of pigs.

"Does she realize that this would mean no more bacon with her  
scrambled eggs?"

"Claire hasn't touched bacon or ham since she discovered that  
book." Grey chuffed. "Kira's worried she'll read one about a calf  
next. She says she can't cope with a vegetarian."

Scully moved down the short hallway toward Claire's bedroom,  
relieved to see a bit of Grey's spark return. He'd been  
uncharacteristically silent on the drive to Kira's house, and she'd  
taken Mulder's lead and let him be. Whatever had passed between  
him and Kira had left him drained and subdued.

Claire's room was an eclectic mish-mash of little girl and big girl,  
princess and tomboy. *NSync and The Little Mermaid posters  
hung side by side, and American Girl dolls shared shelf space with  
baseballs and a catcher's mitt. Mulder stood in front of a large  
window that overlooked the backyard.

"Any luck?"

He startled, one hand jerking reflexively to the gun at his hip.  
Scully skirted the twin bed to stand by his side.

"Sorry."

"'S okay. That's what I get for woolgathering." He smiled down at  
her but something dark lurked behind his eyes.

"Are you all right?"

"Just a little tired. Grey wasn't the only one who didn't sleep much  
last night." His eyes neatly dodged hers. "Did you check the  
power?"

Scully let it slide, well aware that little girl rooms held bittersweet  
memories for her partner. "We checked the cables and the fuses.  
There was a coat of dust an inch thick on the fuse box, and the  
lines were all intact. The ground around the meter is still soft from  
the rain they had a few days ago. It would be impossible for the  
kidnapper not to leave footprints." She sighed. "Just as there are no  
prints in the ground outside this window or any other. And  
absolutely no marks to indicate forced entry."

"Nor are there signs of a struggle." Mulder gestured toward the  
unmade bed. "The sheets and blanket are still tucked in. Nothing  
was knocked over or broken. The books, toys--everything appears  
to be in place."

Scully walked over to the nightstand and lifted the framed photo of  
a dark-haired man with intense brown eyes. "There's a logical  
answer to that, Mulder. Claire may well have gone willingly--if the  
kidnapper was her father."

Mulder chewed his lip. "Kira's convinced it's not Talbot."

"And Grey is equally convinced that it is. Neither one is operating  
with objectivity. They're both too emotionally invested."

"You'll get no argument from me on that."

But his eyes wandered back to the window, their darkness more  
pronounced.

"Mulder. What are you thinking?"

His lips twisted into something that was more grimace than smile.  
"You don't want to know."

The edge of anguish in his voice surprised her. "Of course I do."

He hesitated for a moment, contemplating her face, then jerked his  
thumb at the window. "Did you notice the trees?"

Mystified, she joined him and peered out the glass. A line of tall fir  
trees marked the eastern border of Kira's yard, their tops singed in  
a disturbingly familiar pattern. Scully's stomach dropped to her  
toes.

"Mulder..."

"Have you looked at the clocks?" Before she could turn her head  
he plowed on, voice tight and defensive. "I'll spare you the trouble-  
-they're all nine minutes slow."

Scully folded her arms with a shake of her head. "Mulder, you're  
not... Are you suggesting that Claire was abducted by aliens?"

He looked away, jaw clenched.

"Slow down a minute and think about this. Grey called us in  
because he trusts us. He's counting on your profiling skills to catch  
a kidnapper. You can't do this to him. You can't make this into an  
X-File."

Mulder's eyes narrowed. "Do you really believe I *want* that,  
Scully? You think it's my choice? What the hell am I supposed to  
think if the only evidence I have points in that direction?"

"What direction?" Grey stood in the doorway, eyebrows knit  
together as his focus shifted between their faces. "What evidence?"

Scully's fingers dug into Mulder's forearm. "Nothing concrete. We  
really haven't had much more luck than forensics did."

Grey shook his head, stepping closer. His eyes locked onto his  
brother's face. "Don't bullshit me. What evidence, Fox?"

Mulder stared at a point just past Grey's left shoulder, unable to  
meet the intensity of his gaze. "Scully's right. I've seen nothing to  
indicate that someone broke into this house and took Claire by  
force."

"But you have seen something you think is significant. It's written  
all over your face. What is it?"

"It's nothing concrete. I need time to..."

Grey crossed the room in three strides until he was in Mulder's  
face. "Don't. I told you up front that I won't be brushed aside. If  
you've found something--anything--you think is important, then I  
want to know about it."

Mulder swallowed, then looked directly at his brother for the first  
time. "There's no evidence that a man kidnapped Claire from this  
house. But there is evidence she was taken."

Grey's face went blank with confusion. "What are you saying?  
That she was kidnapped by a woman?"

Scully watched Mulder's fingers curl into fists as he braced himself  
to deliver the bomb. "Grey, what evidence I've found points to  
abduction. Alien abduction."

Grey blew out a puff of air, half snort, half laugh, catching himself  
when Mulder's face remained stony. "You're not serious?"

"I wouldn't joke about this."

"You..." Grey's face flushed and he spun on his heel. He paced  
across the room and back again, one hand raking through his hair.  
"I can't believe this. I understand if you have reservations about  
Talbot, but this..."

Mulder worked hard to keep his voice calm and even. "Listen to  
me. You have no physical evidence to corroborate a kidnapping.  
On the other hand, I can cite multiple signs consistent with alien  
abduction."

Grey's expression twisted into a sneer. "What--you saw little green  
men hiding in the woods? There's a spaceship parked around the  
corner?"

Mulder visibly flinched and Scully stepped forward. "Stop it, Grey.  
You wanted to know what Mulder found. Let him tell you."

Grey laced his arms across his chest, eyes frigid. "Fine. I'm  
listening."

Mulder took a deep breath. "The trees out there have heat damage.  
All the clocks in the house are exactly nine minutes slow. There  
was an interruption of the electricity last night." He ticked the  
items off, one finger at a time. 

"Each one of those could have a completely ordinary explanation."

"Maybe so. But taken together, they point to something  
extraordinary."

Grey glared at his brother for a long moment, then turned on  
Scully. "You agree with him?"

Scully looked up into Mulder's eyes; saw him braced for rejection.  
She turned a cool gaze on Grey. "I believe in Mulder's abilities as  
an agent. And I've seen too much to dismiss alien abduction as  
impossibility. If Mulder thinks that avenue warrants further  
investigation, then I think you should pay attention to him."

The tension that leaked out of Mulder's body was palpable. Scully  
surreptitiously hooked her little finger through his and squeezed.

Grey turned away, speaking through gritted teeth. "You two want  
to chase flying saucers? Fine. Just don't ask me to follow. I'm  
going to check in with the guys at the station, see if there's any  
word on Talbot. I'll be in the car."

The stricken expression on Mulder's face made Scully's throat  
ache. Without letting go of his fingers she reached up with her free  
hand to cradle his jaw, thumb sweeping across his cheek.

"Give him a chance, love. This is all pretty new to him." She lifted  
an eyebrow. "It took me years to reach this point."

It was obvious his heart wasn't in his smile. "You were a tough  
sell, all right." 

She dropped her hand and started for the door, pulled up short  
when Mulder didn't follow. "Mulder?"

"I'd like to poke around here a bit longer, maybe talk to a few  
neighbors."

"You want me to tell Grey to go ahead?"

He shook his head. "No, I want you to go with him." He lifted a  
hand to stall her protest. "The rest of the forensic analysis should  
be coming through. You'll know best whether anything needs to be  
sent on to the Bureau. And I...I could use a little time, Scully."

She hesitated; nodded. "All right. I'll come back and pick you up in  
about an hour."

"Make it an hour and a half and you've got a deal." He must have  
read some emotion in her face because he leaned in and brushed a  
kiss across her lips. "I'm okay, Scully."

He wandered into the living room, standing in the shadows and  
watching through the large picture window as Scully climbed into  
the car and spoke to Grey. His brother glanced up at the house,  
distance rendering his expression unreadable, before throwing the  
car into gear and pulling out of the driveway.

Mulder let himself out the back door and walked across the yard.  
He stared up at the crisped treetops, trying hard to banish the sick  
feeling that had settled in his chest from the moment he'd noticed  
them. As desperately as he'd searched for proof of extraterrestrial  
life, now he hoped with equal fervor not to find it. 

He propped his hands on his hips and dropped his head, closing his  
eyes against the image of Grey's face. Disbelief. Anger. Scorn. It  
was the last that cut the deepest, left him raw and aching. Scully  
was right; it had taken her years to accept the most extreme of  
possibilities. But from the very beginning she'd respected the  
journey. He'd never looked in her eyes and seen...

He shook his head and turned away to scan the rest of the yard. A  
large wooden sandbox sat in the shade of an oak tree. The canvas  
tarp meant to cover it was askew, a bright yellow handle peeking  
out from beneath. Mulder moved close enough to tug the canvas  
completely off. It was riddled with scorch marks--burned  
completely through in spots. He bit down hard on his lip when he  
saw what lay beneath.

What had once been a collection of sand toys were now brightly  
colored but barely recognizable blobs. Mulder crouched and  
picked up what must once have been a green pail, now a lopsided  
puddle of plastic. Heart pounding, he stirred the sand with his  
finger, uncovering small, polished lumps of glass.

"Mind telling me what you're doing there?"

Mulder jumped, nearly falling on his butt before he regained his  
balance and stood. An elderly woman with snow-white hair stood  
on the patio of the house to the left of Kira's. She shaded her eyes  
against the sun, scowling at him.

Mulder walked toward her, pulling his ID from his pocket. "I'm  
FBI--Agent Fox Mulder."

To his surprise, the woman's blue eyes brightened and a smile  
replaced the scowl. "So you're Claire's Uncle Fox! My name is  
Cordelia Logan, but everyone just calls me Corrie. I've heard an  
earful about you."

He knew there was a stunned expression on his face, but couldn't  
seem to remove it. "You have?"

"Goodness, yes. Uncle Fox the FBI agent. Uncle Fox who lives in  
Washington, D.C. Uncle Fox who taught her to hit a baseball." She  
chuckled softly. "She's such a little thing, at first I thought she  
must've gotten your name wrong. Imagine my surprise when Kira  
told me she was right."

Mulder tucked the ID back into his pocket. "You know Claire is  
missing."

All the merriment left the old woman's face. "Yes. I saw the  
commotion yesterday morning and came over to see if Kira was all  
right. The police questioned me, of course, but I'm afraid I wasn't  
much help." 

"Would you mind if I asked you a couple questions?"

"Agent Mulder, my husband and I were never blessed with  
children. That little girl is the closest thing to a granddaughter I'll  
ever have. I'd do anything to help find her."

"The night before last, the night Claire disappeared, did you see or  
hear anything unusual?"

Corrie's face crinkled with regret. "I wish I had. It was a very quiet,  
very normal night. When the power kept flickering, Sam--that's my  
husband--and I turned off the television and took the dog for a  
walk. The neighborhood was quiet, peaceful."

"What time was that?"

"Oh, I don't know. About nine-thirty, ten o'clock?"

"And there were no strange cars, nobody you passed that you didn't  
recognize?"

She shook her head. "We didn't see a single soul. Everyone was  
inside, I guess. A real shame too, since it was a beautiful evening.  
We stood out front for almost half an hour watching the meteor  
shower."

Mulder's breath caught. "Meteor shower?"

She waved a wrinkled hand. "Well, that's what I'd call it. I'm  
certainly no expert on such things."

"What did it look like?"

"Just a lot of bright lights in the sky, darting and swooping. At first  
we thought they were planes, but then Sam decided they must be  
meteors, falling to earth. It was fascinating." She sighed. "But I've  
gotten off on a tangent, haven't it? Meteor showers aren't going to  
help you find little Claire."

"No, you've been very helpful. Thank you for your time." Mulder  
pushed the words past numb lips.

Corrie patted his arm. "I'm sure I haven't, but you're sweet to say  
so. You tell Kira she and Claire are in my prayers, will you?"

"I... Yes, I'll tell her."

Mulder stumbled back to Kira's house on wooden legs. He sat  
down on the cement steps, pulling his trenchcoat more tightly to  
his shivering body. But the chills that tingled up and down his  
spine had little to do with the chill March air.

"Not again." He dropped his face into his hands as tears burned his  
cheeks. "My God, I can't do this again."


	2. Chapter 2

133 Waterbrook Lane  
Wednesday  
11:21 AM

 

Scully eased the car to the curb and killed the engine. She pulled   
the keys from the ignition but made no move to exit the vehicle,   
dropping her head onto the seatback with a weary sigh. A young   
mother pushed a stroller along the sidewalk, its tiny occupant   
bundled so thoroughly only two eyes and a pair of rosy cheeks   
protruded from the blanket. Across the street, an older woman   
tramped from car to house and back again, hauling plastic bags of   
groceries. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked incessantly. 

Less than thirty-six hours ago, a little girl had disappeared from her   
bed without a trace, yet peaceful suburbia hummed along with   
barely a hiccup. Bitter irony considering the devastation wrought   
in the lives of those who loved her.

Grey had been civil but distant during the car ride back to the   
precinct. Scully hadn't pressed, though her stomach churned with   
empathy and regret. At the station they'd gone their separate ways-  
-Scully to follow up with the forensics team and Grey to check on   
the search for Talbot. She hadn't seen him since.

Kira haunted the hallways like a hollow-eyed waif, consuming   
cups of bad coffee and waiting for some scrap of news on her   
daughter. She'd politely rebuffed Scully's offer to bring her a   
sandwich from the cafeteria, though Scully was certain she'd eaten   
little or nothing over the past twenty-four hours.

And MulderÖ Scully closed her eyes but could not shut out the   
memory of the almost physical pain Grey's scorn had caused.   
Cases that involved missing children could not help but resonate   
within Mulder. In such a state of heightened vulnerability, Grey's   
bitter invective had drawn blood as effectively as fists.

A sharp shake of her head, and Scully got out of the car. She   
glanced up and down the street, then, seeing no sign of Mulder,   
walked around to the rear of the house. He sat perched on the   
cement stoop outside the back door like a lanky black bird, legs   
folded to his chest and open coat flapping in the breeze. She   
crossed the narrow strip of grass to stand beside him.

Mulder cocked his head, squinting a little in the glare from the sun.   
Despite the lines of weariness and grief around his eyes, his mouth   
curved into the gentle smile that never failed to make her heart   
ache with emotion. "Hey, Scully."

She smiled back, reaching down to sift her fingers through dark,   
windblown hair. "Hey yourself. Any luck with the neighbors?"

He scooted over, patting the now vacant corner. "Most were   
spectacularly unhelpful."

"Most?" She sat, leaning into his warmth.

Mulder tipped his chin toward the house next door. "Corrie and   
Sam Logan, Claire's surrogate grandparents. According to Corrie   
they didn't see anything unusual the other night. Except for the   
lights in the sky."

She cocked a skeptical eyebrow, but he headed her off with an   
upraised hand. "I know what you're going to say, Scully, but this   
isn't some crank. If I hadn't questioned her I don't think she would   
have given what she saw a second thought. She and her husband   
dismissed it as a meteor shower."

"Maybe it was."

He gave her a long look, then jerked his thumb toward something   
covered by a large piece of canvas near the back of the yard. "Take   
a peek in the sandbox and then we'll talk."

A moment passed before she realized he was serious. Scully stood,   
feeling his eyes on her back as she walked across the grass and   
peeled back the tarp. Scorch marks, melted plastic, hunks of   
glassÖ It didn't take a genius IQ to see what Mulder had--just a   
few years on the X-Files.

He loomed at her back, hands stuffed into coat pockets. "We've   
been here before, Scully."

Short, clipped, the words held both self-assurance and stubborn   
determination. Good. He was going to need both in order to   
convince his brother. 

Scully turned and met his probing gaze. "You're right."

One corner of his mouth turned up. "Dear DiaryÖ"

"I'm not saying Claire was abducted by aliens. I'm saying there's   
sufficient evidence to warrant further investigation." She hesitated.   
"MulderÖ There's another possible explanation. One we've also   
seen before."

His lips tightened to a thin line. "I'd thought of that. But why   
Claire? She doesn't have a drop of Mulder blood; there's no reason   
they should be interested in her. It's far too coincidental that she   
would be a random test subject."

"And your theory isn't? Less than one percent of the population   
claims to have been abducted by aliens. What are the odds that   
your brother's niece should be one of them?"

He propped hands on hips, frustration and weariness sharpening   
his voice. "I thought you agreed that the evidenceÖ"

"I do. But bright lights and melted toys are only half the equation.   
You said it yourself--why Claire? Motive is as important as   
method, Mulder. Grey is not going to take you seriously until you   
can answer your own question." 

He glared at her a moment longer before nodding. "You're right."

Scully arched an eyebrow. "Dear DiaryÖ"

It earned her a delighted chuckle--the first, she realized sadly,   
since they'd gotten the call from Grey. Scully grinned back,   
basking in the moment. 

"So where do we go from here?" she asked as they began walking   
back to the car.

"I think I'll give the Gunmen a call. Have them check UFO activity   
over the last week or so."

"You think this might have happened elsewhere?"

Mulder shrugged, crossing to the driver's side of the car. "I need to   
find some kind of pattern, Scully, if I'm to understand why Claire   
and not the kid down the street." His eyes hardened and he bent   
over to unlock the door. "And to have any chance of convincing   
Grey."

"MulderÖ"

"Save it, Scully. I don't need you to make excuses for him."

"I wasn't going to."

He paused, key halfway to the lock, momentarily nonplussed.   
"WellÖI don't need you to make me feel better, either."

"Never crossed my mind."

Mulder straightened up, irritation creasing his brow. "Then what   
were you going to say?"

Scully strode over and nudged him out of the way, pulling out her   
own set of keys. "I'm driving." She unlocked the door and slid   
behind the wheel, her expression daring him to protest. "After all,   
the seat's already adjusted so my little feet can reach the pedals."

Mulder slouched around to the passenger side. "You're never going   
to let me forget that, are you?"

Scully just started the engine, her smile distinctly enigmatic.

 

Raleigh Police Station  
12:33 PM

 

Something had changed. Mulder and Scully could feel the   
undercurrent of restrained excitement the moment they entered the   
building. Grey stood behind his desk, phone tucked between ear   
and shoulder as he wrote on a yellow legal pad.

"ÖThat's right. Take the car straight to impound; forensics can go   
over it for trace evidence." He motioned them over, still scribbling   
frantically. "What did you expect, a spontaneous confession? Just   
get him in here; we can hold him for up to 48 hours if we have to."

"You've located Talbot?" Mulder's voice was scrupulously neutral.

"Our APB paid off. A state trooper spotted him about fifty miles   
south of here, on Interstate 95. They're on their way in now, should   
be here in about fifteen minutes."

"Is Claire with him?" Scully asked.

A wisp of doubt dimmed the satisfaction shining in Grey's eyes,   
but he shrugged it off. "No. But he could have her stashed   
somewhere--a motel, a friend's place. Once he sees we're onto him,   
I'm hoping he'll come clean about everything, including where to   
find Claire."

"Which direction was he headed?"

Grey turned to his brother with a frown. "What?"

"Talbot. Which direction was he headed when the cop stopped   
him, north or south?"

Grey glanced at his notes. "North." When his brother didn't reply   
other than to flash Scully a significant look, he folded his arms.   
"What?"

Mulder's face was expressionless but a hint of impatience crept   
into his voice. "Don't give me that. You know what."

"So he was heading toward the city. He still didn't show up for   
work the past two days, and he's still the most likely suspect."

"GreyÖ"

"This is the first break we've had, Fox. If things go well, this   
nightmare might be over in a matter of hours. Allow me a little   
optimism, all right?"

"Grey?" Kira wound her way through bodies and desks until she   
stood beside Scully. "Is it true? Did they find Steve?"

"He's on his way in right now. No sign of Claire--yet."

"I want to be there when you talk to him."

"KiraÖ" Grey looked at Mulder.

"Kira, it's not a good idea." Mulder reached around Scully to lay a   
hand on Kira's shoulder. "Aside from the fact that it could   
influence Steve's response to questioning, it's completely against   
police procedure."

A line appeared between Kira's brows. "Unless I'm mistaken, Grey   
working a case that involves family isn't exactly going by the book   
either. Claire is my child; I have the right to hear what Steve has to   
say."

"Does your interrogation room have an observation area?" Scully   
asked Grey. 

He nodded, relief softening his features. "Yeah. I guess that would   
be all right." He turned to Kira. "You'll be able to listen in without   
him knowing you're there. Okay?"

A slight hesitation before she returned his nod. "Okay."

Grey glanced around, then beckoned to a nearby uniformed officer.   
"Covelli, would you please show my sister to observation for   
interrogation B?"

When Kira had been escorted away, an awkward silence fell   
between the three. Scully watched Grey fiddle with his pencil and   
Mulder shuffle his feet, biting back the urge to knock their heads   
together. When Grey finally spoke, it was with eyes still trained on   
the pad of paper.

"SoÖ Find anything else at Kira's?"

Mulder caught the slight jerk of Scully's head from the corner of   
his eye. He gritted his teeth but kept his tone mild. "Nothing I care   
to share at the moment."

Grey looked up sharply. "I'm not sure if I should be disappointed   
or relieved."

Mulder bared his teeth in a grin. "Like you said, this may all be   
over in the next few hours."

"But you don't think so."

"I thinkÖ"

Grey's phone trilled and he scooped it up. "McKenzieÖPut him in   
B; we'll be right there." He dropped the receiver back onto its   
cradle, scooped up a folder, and stood, tugging his jacket from the   
back of his chair. "Let's go."

Talbot was seated at a small wooden table, hands cuffed in front of   
him, when they entered the room. Scully wasn't sure what she   
expected, but it certainly wasn't the harmless-looking man with   
weary eyes and a slight build. He looked up, eyes widening, then   
narrowing at the sight of Grey.

"I should've figured you were behind this. At least maybe now I'll   
get some answers."

"These are Special Agents Scully and Mulder from the FBI," Grey   
said as he and Scully took seats at the table. Mulder wandered to   
lean against the wall at a point just beyond Talbot's left shoulder.   
Talbot's gaze flicked quickly over him before returning to Grey.

Grey set down the file folder in his hand and pressed both palms   
against the scratched and pitted tabletop. "Claire is missing."

Talbot stared at him, blank expression quickly transforming to   
angry confusion. "Missing? What the hell is that supposed to   
mean?"

"She wasn't in her bed when Kira went to wake her up yesterday   
morning. We've searched the area, checked in with all her friends.   
No one has seen her since Monday night."

"That doesn't make anyÖ Why would she run off like that? And   
how could an eight-year-old kid just disappear?"

Grey's face remained impassive but his hands curled slowly into   
fists. "Maybe because she didn't 'run off.' We don't believe Claire   
left of her own free will."

"Oh my God." Talbot leaned forward, burying his face in his   
hands. "Do you know who might'veÖ" He dropped his hands,   
glaring at Grey. "Is that why--you can't possibly think I wouldÖ"

"Where were you Monday night, Steve?"

"You've got to be kidding." When Grey didn't respond, Talbot   
turned to Scully. "Look, I don't know what he's told you, but I'm   
no kidnapper."

"I know exactly what you are, Mr. Talbot." Scully's voice was cool   
as she drew the folder from Grey and opened it. "Your record   
speaks for itself." 

"That was five years ago. A lot has changed since then. *I've*   
changed."

Something in his tone, hidden beneath the sullen growl, made   
Scully steal a quick look at Mulder, who responded with a barely   
perceptible nod.

"You want custody of Claire," Grey said.

"Joint custody. Just because a man wants the chance to see his own   
daughter doesn't make him a kidnapper, for God's sake! I'd never   
do that to Kira."

Grey's lip curled. "'Course not. You're just a big ol' teddy bear,   
aren't you? You'd never hurt her."

"We've strayed from the question." Scully looked pointedly at   
Grey before returning her attention to Talbot. "There's an easy way   
to put these accusations to rest, Mr. Talbot. Just tell us where you   
were on the night Claire disappeared."

Talbot pressed his lips tightly together before answering. "I   
wasÖout of town."

"Where?" Grey asked. "And for what purpose?"

A sharp shake of his head before he looked coolly into Grey's   
angry face. "I can't say. It's a personal matter."

"Personal?" Grey's response was low, dangerous. "Like taking   
your daughter from her bed and driving her to wherever you're   
holding her right now?"

Face twisted in rage, Talbot shoved back his chair and stood. In a   
flash Grey was on his feet, hand on the butt of his weapon. "Sit   
down, Steve."

Talbot hesitated, breath puffing in short, hard pants. He dropped   
back into his chair, spine rigid. "I told you I didn't do it. Hell, I was   
400 miles from here. You're wasting your time with me when you   
could be out looking for the real kidnapper." He scrubbed at his   
face with both hands and barked out a semi-hysterical chuckle.   
"But that wouldn't be nearly as much fun, would it?"

Scully tensed as Grey stepped closer to Talbot, looming over him.   
"What are you trying to say?"

"This is your big chance, isn't it? A way to get back at me for all   
the grief I caused your sister? You had me tried and convicted   
before you walked in this room."

"Maybe I just know what you're capable of, you littleÖ"

"Grey."

Scully's hand on his arm pulled Grey back. Barely. He   
straightened, running the fingers of one hand through his hair, then   
stalked over to the door and shoved it open.

"Covelli!"

The uniformed cop who'd escorted Kira to the observation area   
appeared almost instantly, looking ready to bow or salute--Scully   
wasn't sure which. She chewed the inside of her cheek to hide her   
amusement. Evidently Grey's current run of bad temper had   
everyone walking on eggshells.

"Process him and put him in a holding cell." Grey ignored Talbot's   
angry hiss.

"You can't do this. Last time I checked, you need evidence to   
charge someone with a crime." Talbot spat the words at Grey as   
Covelli grasped one arm.

"I can hold you up to 48 hours without charging you with a damn   
thing. With any luck, by then I'll have the evidence I need."

Talbot's reply, as Covelli ushered him from the room, was crude   
but creative. Grey watched him go, then turned on his brother.

"What was with you? You're the great profiler; I expected you to   
say something."

Mulder pushed himself off the wall he'd been holding up,   
shrugging. "You and Scully had things under control. I can usually   
tell more about a person by observing."

Grey folded his arms. "So?"

"I think he's telling the truth. I don't believe he had anything to do   
with Claire's disappearance."

Obviously not the answer Grey wanted. "Were we just in the same   
room? The guy refuses to account for his whereabouts Monday   
night. Why--unless he has something to hide?"

Mulder shook his head. "I didn't say he's not concealing something.   
I just don't think it has anything to do with Claire."

"Really? Have you got anything to back up that opinion? Or am I   
just supposed to take it as face value because it comes from   
Spooky Mulder?"

Mulder's eyes went dark and flat. Scully started to speak, desperate   
to say anything that might deflect the anger, but he cut her off. "I   
watched him, Grey--did you? I saw his face when you told him   
Claire was missing, and I'm telling you, he didn't know. I   
guarantee when you get the forensics on his car there'll be no   
physical evidence, just as there was none at the house."

"You wrote him off from the beginning." Grey uttered the words   
softly and nearly without inflection, a sure sign he was furious.   
"You'd rather believe Claire was taken by ET than accept the truth.   
I know that son of a bitch, Fox. You ask if I've watched him?   
Damn straight I have--watched him bully and abuse my sister for   
years. He has Claire somewhere, and I'm going to get it out of him,   
with or without your help."

Mulder stared at his brother, face pale. "Talbot was right, wasn't   
he? This isn't about Claire, it's about Kira and what happened five   
years ago. You *want* him to be guilty, don't you? Damn it, Grey,   
can't you see you've crossed the line?"

For a moment Scully thought it would be all right. Grey's face   
crumbled and he dropped his head, breathing ragged. But when   
Mulder reached out to lay a hand on his brother's arm, it was   
shrugged off and Grey's shoulders stiffened.

"I need to follow up with forensics on the car and search his   
personal affects. Maybe there'll be something to tell us where he's   
been." He stalked out of the room without meeting their eyes.

 

Raleigh Police Station  
2:37 PM

 

"Mulder."

"Hm?" He looked up into exasperated blue eyes, abruptly aware he   
hadn't spoken for at least five minutes.

She pointed to his plate with her soupspoon. "That's already dead.   
No need to torture it."

Mulder glanced down at the shredded remains of his roast beef on   
rye. He shoved the plate aside and propped his elbows on the table.   
"Sorry, Scully. The bread was kind of dry."

"I warned you to stick to the soup." Her expression softened.   
"Want some of mine?"

"Thanks, but I'm not very hungry." Face pensive, he watched   
several uniformed cops make their way through the cafeteria line.

Scully slid her hand, palm up, across the tabletop. "Then how   
about sharing whatever's going on in that head of yours? You've   
been a million miles away ever since we sat down. We're in this   
together--remember?"

Mulder's lips curved, smoothing some of the lines of tension   
around his eyes and mouth. He slipped his hand into hers with a   
gentle squeeze. "I'm not holding out on you, Scully. I'm just trying   
to process the last few hours."

"You still think Talbot is innocent?"

He chuffed softly. "The last word I'd use to describe Talbot is   
innocent. But I don't think he had anything to do with Claire's   
disappearance. Do you?"

She considered the question a moment before shaking her head.   
"No. As you said, his surprise felt too real to be faked. But Grey   
has a point. If he's not guilty, why won't he reveal where he's been   
the past few days?"

"That's one of the things I've been thinking about. I believe I may   
have the why, if not the where."

"I'm listening."

"Talbot appears genuinely concerned about finding Claire. Yet not   
cooperating with us is counterproductive to achieving that. After   
all, as long as he remains the number one suspect, the police are   
going to concentrate their efforts on him."

"And not on finding the real perpetrator," Scully added.

"Exactly."

"So why isn't he talking?"

"Maybe whatever took him out of town could jeopardize his   
petition for joint custody of Claire."

Scully frowned. "Such as?"

Mulder worried his lower lip between his teeth. "Unpaid debts?   
Drugs? Could be any of a number of factors that would cast doubt   
on his competence as a parent. His past record of abuse already   
works against him. Anything more could be the final straw that   
keeps him from his daughter forever."

"So where does that leave us?"

"We need Talbot to come clean. Grey's not going to move on until   
he does." Mulder made a face. "He's being an arrogant, pig-headed   
bastard about this whole case. He's so convinced he's right he won't   
listen to reason."

Scully looked at him, deadpan.

"What?"

"Do you have any idea how many locals have used those words to   
describe you? If I had a dime..."

"Ha, ha."

The amusement faded from Scully's eyes and she extricated her   
hand from Mulder's. "Kira," she said, smiling at a spot just over his   
right shoulder.

Mulder stood, offering Kira a chair and then reseating himself.   
Scully observed the woman with concern.

"Kira, can we get you something to eat? Some soup?"

"Thank you, but I just... I can't. That's not why I'm here." Kira's   
gaze darted between their faces, her dark eyes huge in her pale,   
pinched face.

"You came to talk about Steve." Mulder's voice was gentle but   
sure.

"Yes." Kira picked up a paper napkin and began twisting it in   
restless hands. "I've just come from the cell where they're holding   
him." She looked into Mulder's eyes. "He didn't do it, Fox. He   
didn't take Claire. You've got to talk to Grey; he won't listen to   
me."

Mulder glanced helplessly at Scully before turning back to the   
distraught woman. "Kira, he's not listening to me either."

"Steve talked to you?" Scully asked. Kira nodded. "Did you ask   
him where he's been?"

"I tried, but he wouldn't tell me. He said he's innocent, and Grey   
will realize that, sooner or later."

"It's the later I'm worried about," Mulder muttered.

"Grey's always been overprotective of me." Kira began tearing the   
napkin into bits, jaw clenched. "He acts as if I'm some kind of   
fragile flower. He doesn't treat Shannon that way."

"Shannon wasn't abused by her husband." Scully's tone was blunt   
but kind. "It's understandable that he doesn't trust Steve,   
considering all he put you through."

Kira's shoulders slumped. "I know, I know. I lived it, after all. But   
since Steve's come back... Something's changed, Dana. He's   
different somehow--calmer. Focused. I'm not saying he doesn't still   
have a temper," she added quickly. "But for the first time since I   
met him, I can see him really trying to control it. I believe him   
when he says he's sorry for the past and that he wants to build a   
relationship with Claire."

Mulder leaned forward in his chair. "Kira, why now? He let five   
years pass without so much as a birthday card to his daughter.   
What changed his mind?"

Kira shrugged, one corner of her mouth quirking. "He said he   
realized life's too short to waste time. And that the people we love   
are all that really matter."

Mulder was silent, tugging on his lower lip, then shoved back his   
chair and stood. "I have a phone call to make. I'll catch up with you   
both later. Scully, make her eat something."

He was gone before either of them could open their mouths. Kira   
looked at Scully, eyebrows raised. "Is he always like that?"

"He has his moments."

"And I thought keeping up with Claire was exhausting."

Scully grinned. "Let me buy you a bowl of soup and we'll swap   
war stories."

Kira hesitated briefly before breaking into a reluctant smile.   
"Sounds too good to pass up."

 

Interrogation Room B  
4:02 PM

 

"What's going on?" Grey stalked into the room, eyes narrowing at   
the sight of Mulder, Scully, and Kira already seated around the   
table.

"Sit down, Grey." Mulder nudged the empty chair beside him with   
his foot.

Grey ran a hand through disheveled hair, one corner of his mouth   
turned up in exasperation. "Not that I don't want you to make   
yourself at home, Fox, but don't you think summoning me to my   
own interrogation room is taking things a bit far?"

"Scully vetoed the engraved invitations." Mulder waited until Grey   
had taken a seat before continuing. "Covelli's getting Steve. They   
should be here any minute."

Grey's amusement sharpened to wariness. "I'll ask you one more   
time. What's going on?"

Mulder glanced at Scully, then back at his brother. "I know where   
Talbot was the night Claire disappeared. I think I can persuade him   
to talk."

"Why is Kira here?"

"I invited her."

Grey spoke through clenched teeth. "I don't want her anywhere   
near him, Fox."

"She deserves to hear this, Grey. It concerns her as much as any of   
us. More."

"Look, you don't seem to get the fact that she..."

"Excuse me, but 'she' is sitting across from you. Would you mind   
not discussing me as if I'm either hearing impaired or brain dead?"   
Kira leaned across the table, eyes giving a whole new meaning to   
the phrase "if looks could kill." "Grey, I love you for wanting to   
protect me, but back the hell off. I'm not going anywhere."

Grey slouched into his chair and folded his arms. "Fine. I'm not   
getting into a pissing contest with you over this. But I just want it   
on the record that I think it's a bad idea."

Kira rolled her eyes. "As if we had any doubts."

Covelli appeared in the doorway, Talbot in tow. He flushed a bit at   
the sight of Grey's thunderous face. "Uh...Agent Mulder asked   
that..."

"I've heard. Just sit him down over there, Covelli. I'll see he gets   
back where he belongs when we're finished."

Talbot lowered himself into the designated chair, gaze darting from   
face to face before dropping to where his cuffed hands rested on   
the tabletop. "Haven't we done this dance already? I don't have   
anything more to say."

"I think you do," Mulder said. "I think you've got a story to tell,   
Steve. And I think we're the perfect audience for it."

Steve's head jerked up and his mouth twisted into a sneer. "So, you   
can talk after all. Tired of playing the strong, silent type?" When   
Mulder just looked at him, he shook his head. "You're wasting   
your time. Unless you've dug up some kind of evidence to prove I   
took Claire--and we both know you haven't--you're going to have   
to let me go, sooner or later. May as well make it sooner. Got it?"

Mulder ran a hand along his jaw, unobtrusively nudging Grey's leg   
with his own. Even through the brief touch he could feel his   
brother's fury; Grey was like a tightly coiled spring.

"It's not our time that's being wasted, Steve. It's Claire's. See, the   
longer you dick around with us, the longer you remain a suspect.   
And that just distracts us from finding out what really happened to   
your daughter." He showed his teeth in a cold smile. "Got it?"

Steve glared at him, lips pressed into a thin, white line and fingers   
clenching spasmodically into fists. Mulder tipped backward, chair   
balanced precariously on two legs.

"How's your health these days, Steve?"

Talbot froze, smug self-assurance draining from his face along   
with most of the color. He started to look at Kira before catching   
himself. "I don't know what you mean."

"Seems pretty self-explanatory to me. How have you been   
feeling?"

A slight twitch of his shoulder. "Fine."

"Really?" Mulder adopted a faintly puzzled expression. "You sure   
about that?"

"Yes." The response was delivered in a voice that could cut glass.

Mulder let the chair drop back onto four legs with a thud. He   
locked eyes with Talbot, ignoring the questioning looks from Grey,   
Kira, and Scully. "Then maybe you can explain why you spent the   
weekend in an Atlanta hospital." He reached into his coat pocket   
and pulled out two amber prescription bottles, setting them on the   
table in front of Talbot. "And why these were in the medicine chest   
at your apartment."

Scully reached for the bottles but Talbot's hand was there first,   
snatching them up in a clenched fist. "No!" He looked at Mulder,   
anger and sorrow mingled together until they were   
indistinguishable. "Why couldn't you have left this alone, left me   
alone? I needed..."

"Because it's time you got over yourself, Talbot, once and for all.   
This isn't about what you need; it's about what Claire needs.   
Finding her, bringing her home, is what matters."

Steve searched his face for a long moment, evidently finding what   
he needed. He handed the pill bottles to Scully, then dropped his   
face into his hands. Scully scanned the labels before turning to   
Mulder.

"Tegretol? Zarontin?"

Kira caught her breath. "Zarontin? That's an anticonvulsant.   
Steve...?"

"I didn't want you to know." Talbot's voice was muffled. "I was   
afraid if you knew, if the judge knew, you wouldn't trust me with   
Claire."

Kira reached out to peel his hands from his face. "Knew what?"

"I have cancer, Kira. A tumor in the right parietal lobe of my brain.   
It's inoperable." He laughed--a bitter, lonely sound--and looked at   
Grey. "I remember you telling me that one day I'd get what I   
deserved. Guess you were right."

Grey looked away, too stunned to answer. Kira pressed trembling   
fingers to her lips, blinking hard.

"Are you saying you...you're dying?"

Talbot shrugged. "Doc gave me six months two months ago. He's   
got me on some new, experimental treatment, but it's too soon to   
tell if it's helping." He chuckled, desperately trying to appear   
unaffected by her tears. "Makes me sick as a dog, though. That's   
why I have to check into the hospital. If the tumor doesn't kill me,   
the drugs will."

"Don't," Kira said sharply. "Please, don't."

Talbot tentatively slid his hands across the table to cover hers.   
Grey stiffened, but didn't protest.

"When I got the news, after the shock wore off, I started   
wondering what to do with the time I have left. I tried on a lot of   
different ideas, but no matter where I started, I always seemed to   
wind up in the same place. Claire." He blew out a long, slow   
breath. "My life has been a series of screw-ups, Kira, one right   
after another. But that little girl...she's the only thing I've ever done   
right. I couldn't die without fixing things between us. Without   
letting her know her father loves her, even if he is a loser."

Kira turned her hand and linked it with his. "You should have told   
me the truth, Steve. Did you really think I'd keep her from you?"

His smile was wry. "I haven't exactly given you a reason to trust   
me. I was hoping if I could get my act together, show you I was   
trying to change..."

Mulder stood and motioned Grey and Scully to the door of the   
room. "How about we give them a few minutes?" he said, sotto   
voce.

Grey nodded. He stared at his brother, still bewildered and a little   
shell-shocked. "You're certain that he was in the hospital the night   
Claire was taken? You have witnesses?"

"The doctor wouldn't discuss the details of his treatment with me,   
but yes, he confirmed that Talbot spent three nights there. Too sick   
to be a threat to anyone, from what I can gather. With the   
occasional seizures he's experienced, he's not even supposed to be   
driving a car."

"What gave you the idea to check hospital records?" Scully asked.

"Something Kira mentioned. She said Steve told her life was too   
short to waste. It started me wondering why a guy like Talbot   
would be contemplating his mortality."

"It was a damn good piece of investigative work, Fox." Grey shook   
his head. "You were right. You had reservations about Talbot from   
the beginning, but I was too blinded by my own prejudices to   
listen."

Something loosened in Mulder's chest. "I never said I didn't   
understand why you felt the way you did." He glanced through the   
open door at Kira and Talbot, heads close together in deep   
conversation. "He's not exactly the kind of husband anyone would   
want for their sister."

Grey tucked chin to chest, massaging the back of his neck. "Worst   
part is now we're back to square one. And to be honest, I'm not   
sure where to go from here."

Mulder stole a quick glance at Scully. "I do."

Grey's head snapped up and the atmosphere abruptly chilled thirty   
degrees. "Don't start."

"Grey..."

"It's ridiculous, Fox, and I don't want to hear another word about it!   
Can you imagine what the cops around here would think if I started   
spouting your alien abduction theory?"

Mulder stepped forward, into his brother's face. "What's the   
matter? Afraid they'll start thinking you're as crazy as Spooky?   
Insanity is hereditary, after all."

Scully placed a restraining hand on her husband's arm. "Grey, you   
called us in on this case for our expertise. You can't just ignore..."

"I called you in to help me find a kidnapper, to profile. If you two   
want to chase aliens then you damn well better do it on your own   
time. Leave my family the hell out of it!" Grey punctuated his   
words by stabbing a finger at Mulder's chest. Heads turned at the   
sound of their raised voices.

"This isn't about Scully and me, it's about you," Mulder snarled.   
"You're so worried about what people will think, you'd rather close   
your eyes to the truth than risk looking foolish. It's a pity Claire   
isn't as important to you as your damn reputation."

The blow caught Mulder under the jaw, nearly lifting him off his   
feet. He was sprawled on the tile before he knew what had hit him,   
Scully's angry cry ringing in his ears. 

Grey stood over his brother, rubbing his knuckles. "And it's a pity   
you see Samantha every time a little girl disappears." He turned to   
walk back to his desk, but paused. "Go home, Fox. I can handle   
this on my own."

 

Eagle Rock  
Wednesday  
7:17 PM

 

"You're both acting like stubborn children." Scully leaned in the   
bathroom doorway, arms laced across her chest, as Mulder tossed   
toiletries into his shaving kit.

He paused, razor in hand, to glare at her. "What do you want me to   
do, Scully? Apologize to my brother for knocking me on my ass?"   
He tucked the razor into the case and reached for the shaving   
cream.

"No." She sighed, struggling to keep frustration in check. "I'm not   
saying Grey wasn't way out of line when he hit you. And I'm not   
denying that he's been rude and overbearing when it comes to this   
case." She reached over and plucked the pouch from his fingers,   
forcing him to meet her eyes. "Mulder, he hasn't slept in over 36   
hours. He's worried about Kira and terrified for Claire. You and I   
both know he's got no business running this investigation."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

Scully set the kit aside and moved behind him, slipping her arms   
around his waist and leaning her cheek against his shoulder. "I'm   
telling you to cut him some slack. To realize he's not himself, and   
that maybe right now *you* have to be the big brother. Swallow your   
pride and your anger and go make things right with him."

Mulder stared at their reflection in the mirror, fingers tracing the   
darkening bruise along his jaw before covering her hands with his   
own. "Scully, I can't."

"Mulder..."

"No, listen. This is about something far more basic than anger and   
pride. This is about respect, Scully. Respect not just for what I do,   
but for who I am."

"Grey respects you, Mulder, he..."

"He doesn't! He accepts me. Loves me in spite of...me. Fox, the   
brilliant but damaged brother. He's a terrific agent--writes a mean   
profile. Just look the other way if he starts seeing aliens, though.   
Poor guy had a traumatic childhood."

Scully dropped her arms, a chunk of ice in the pit of her stomach.   
"That's not true."

Mulder turned to face her, calm--or perhaps just resigned. "I might   
never have realized, if not for this case." He shook his head,   
looking bemused. "You said it yourself, Scully. What are the odds   
that someone so close to me would be abducted by aliens? There's   
a cruel irony in there somewhere."

His placid surrender infuriated her. "So...what? You're just going   
to chuck the whole relationship? Write Grey off as a lost cause and   
go home? He's your *brother*, Mulder. The only blood relative you   
have left. Isn't he worth more to you than that?"

"No, I'm not going home, I'm going to a hotel. I owe it to Kira and   
Claire to see this case through to the end." Mulder picked up the   
shaving kit, zipped it shut, and shouldered past her. She followed   
him down the hall to the guest bedroom, where he tossed it into his   
open suitcase.

"And Grey?" she asked quietly.

"Despite what you might think, I'm not really angry with him. But   
I...I can't..." His voice turned wispy and broke. She watched the   
clench and release of jaw muscles, the flutter of eyelashes. "I don't   
care if Iím 'Spooky' around the Bureau, Scully, or even with the   
local boys. I don't give a damn what they think. But Grey... It   
matters."

She wanted to argue, torn between hugging him and shaking him,   
but the trill of his cell phone intervened.

"Mulder...Whatcha got, Byers?" He listened a moment, gaze   
roaming the room until it landed on her laptop case. "Hang on."   
Phone cradled between ear and shoulder, he pulled a notepad and   
pen from the side pocket and sat down on the bed. "Go   
ahead....No, all of them...Really?"

Scully's ears perked up at the excitement in his voice. "What is it?"

He waved a hand at her and began scribbling furiously on the pad.   
"Dates and locations. Names, too, if you have them."

Scully tired of listening after a few minutes. Deliberately ignoring   
her open suitcase, she headed down the stairs and into the kitchen.   
She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and wandered   
into the living room. A shelf containing framed photos caught her   
eye, and she moved closer to get a better look.

Grey and Kate's wedding photo, he looking impossibly young and   
eager in a black tux; she radiantly beautiful in an ivory satin gown.   
Grey and Kristen in hiking boots and backpacks, posed against a   
wooded backdrop of brilliant fall colors. The last she recognized.   
Taken by Grey's mom, it was a photo of the three of them--Scully,   
Mulder, and Grey--during a family picnic the previous summer.   
Fresh from a game of softball, they all were flushed, sweaty, and   
slightly disheveled. 

She lifted the photo from the shelf, the dull ache in her chest   
expanding. With Scully tucked under one arm, the other thrown   
over Grey's shoulders, Mulder's face reflected happiness and   
contentment. An expression she'd seen more and more over the   
past two years. She let her eyes drift shut. How had things soured   
so quickly?

The front door rattled and swung open, emitting a gust of chill air   
and Grey. His eyes met hers only briefly before he ducked his head   
and turned to shut the door. Scully replaced the photo and walked   
over to where he was busily hanging up his coat. Evidently the task   
took great concentration, since he focused his whole attention on it. 

"Grey."

"Mark kicked me out--can you believe it? Told me not to come   
back until I'd gotten at least five hours of sleep." His gaze skittered   
over her face to the bottle in her hands. "Think I'll grab one of   
those; I'm parched."

Scully stopped his forward momentum with a firmly placed hand   
to the shoulder. "Grey. We need to talk."

Grey folded his arms across his chest. "What do you want from   
me, Dana?"

*God, give me strength. One is irritating. Two just might push me   
over the edge.*

She gave him a look usually reserved for her husband. "You're as   
bad as Mulder. You can't ignore the elephant in the middle of the   
room and just go about your business."

"I'm prepared to give it the old college try." When she didn't   
respond, he blew out a long, weary breath and pinched the bridge   
of his nose. "I never... I didn't mean to hit him."

Scully handed him her still unopened bottle. "It's not that bad. His   
jaw's a little bruised, but the swelling is minimal."

"Still." Grey twisted off the cap and took a long draught, swiping   
the moisture from his lips with the back of his hand. "I know Bill   
knocked Fox around a few times. For me to resort to my fists..."

She shook her head. "What you just said--insinuating he's some   
kind of victim? That's exactly what he's afraid you'll think of him."

Grey's remorse took on a defensive edge. "I just meant I was sorry,   
that I realize..."

"It was one punch, Grey. I must have seen my brothers exchange   
as bad or worse at least a dozen times. Mulder's jaw will be healed   
in a week. The hits to his spirit--that's another matter altogether."

"You've lost me, Dana."

Scully glanced up the staircase, then drew Grey into the living   
room. "Do you know when they started calling Mulder 'Spooky'?"

Grey stared at her blankly for a moment before obviously deciding   
to go with the flow. "I always assumed it was when he relocated to   
the basement and started investigating aliens."

"Understandable, but incorrect. People were calling him 'Spooky   
Mulder' years before he picked up his first X-File. I'm not sure   
anyone remembers who coined the nickname, but it originated   
when he began profiling." Scully shook her head. "There he was,   
fresh out of the Academy, looking barely old enough to shave, yet   
in six months he'd turned the BSU upside down. Not only did his   
solve rate surpass that of older, more seasoned agents, he'd   
managed to write the monograph that led to the capture of Monty   
Props, a serial killer who had eluded police for nearly two years. It   
was downright spooky."

Grey looked thoughtful. "So that's how it started. I never realized."

"My point is, while it was never exactly flattering, initially it   
communicated a kind of respect--even awe. He intimidated the hell   
out of people, but no one doubted that he was the Bureau's rising   
star."

"Until he started to crash and burn," Grey said quietly.

"Mulder took on the X-Files for two reasons, Grey, the least   
significant of which was his mental health. He glimpsed in them a   
path to the truth--truth about his missing sister and about a   
conspiracy to conceal the existence of extraterrestrial life. And he   
dedicated his life to following that path. Nothing was more   
important--not his career, the respect of his peers...not even his   
life."

"Until you."

"And you." Scully walked over to the shelf and held up the picture   
of the three of them. "We changed him, Grey. You and I. We   
pounded on the door long enough, and hard enough that he finally   
let us inside. I didn't become a part of his life out of charity. Did   
you?"

Grey's brows drew together. "Of course not! You don't really   
believe that, do you?"

"No. But I'm not so sure about Mulder."

Indignation gave way to confusion. "Fox? Why would he think   
such a thing? Just because I don't agree with his theory..."

"Don't agree? Grey, you've not only dismissed it, you've ridiculed   
it. But what's worse is that you've ridiculed *him*. That's nothing   
new for Mulder--he's endured similar treatment in countless police   
departments all over the country, gotten pretty adept at deflecting.   
Problem is, you flew in under his radar. He never saw it coming."

She detected a quick flash of guilt before Grey's expression turned   
mulish. "Dana, I love my brother, but I'm not about to let him turn   
Claire's case into an X-File."

"Even if it is one?" She held up a hand to still his protest. "Forget I   
said that, it's irrelevant. Look, you don't have to agree with him,   
Grey. Just respect him. He's earned it."

The sound of footsteps overhead and then Mulder's voice.   
"Scully?"

Scully held Grey's gaze a moment longer before turning and   
walking to the foot of the stairs. "I'm down here."

"Get your stuff together; we've got to get moving." He appeared   
from the bedroom and jogged down the steps, suitcase in hand,   
talking a mile a minute. "Wait'll you hear what the guys dug up. As   
soon as we get checked in somewhere I've got to find a fax   
machine. They've located more than a dozen instances of UFO   
activity across the country over the last two days and in every case   
there's been a corresponding..." He broke off, stalled on the bottom   
step, as he stared at something just past Scully's right shoulder. She   
felt Grey's proximity a moment later.

Grey inclined his head. "Don't stop on my account."

Mulder's eyes narrowed and he spoke through gritted teeth.   
"Thought you didn't want to hear this."

A shrug, but Grey's shoulders were stiff. "Changed my mind."

Mulder descended the last step and set down the suitcase, directing   
his words to Scully. "There have been over a dozen reports of UFO   
phenomena over the last two days--lights in the sky, power   
fluctuations, even a near miss with a small plane. They seem to be   
spread evenly across the country, but with no discernable pattern."   
He glanced warily at Grey before continuing. "The guys are still   
confirming, but...it looks like in each case a child has also been   
reported missing."

There was a long and very pregnant silence before Grey spun on   
his heel and strode down the hall to the kitchen. Scully watched   
Mulder's face adopt the carefully neutral mask he used to conceal   
pain.

"I want copies of police reports for all the missing kids. Some   
precincts may not have email capability, so if we can locate a   
fax..."

"There's one upstairs, in my office."

Grey walked slowly up the hallway and handed Scully a bottle of   
water. "I think I owe you one of these, darlin'." He turned to look   
at his brother. "Got the machine a year ago when I hurt my back. I   
could at least keep up with paperwork while I was stuck at home."   
His gaze dropped to the suitcase. "Don't go, Fox."

Mulder propped hands on hips, shaking his head. "What's the   
point, Grey? Unless you've had a sudden epiphany regarding my   
theory, we've got very different ideas about how this investigation   
should proceed. You've certainly made it clear..." He took a deep   
breath; sighed. "I don't want to fight anymore."

"I don't either." Grey ran one hand over his stubbled chin with an   
audible rasp. "I won't lie to you--I think you're way off base. I   
think whoever took Claire was very clever, and very human, and   
that's the direction I intend to pursue. And I'm not likely to change   
my mind, no matter how many reports of lights in the sky you   
show me." 

He glanced at Scully, who was watching him carefully between   
pulls on the water bottle. "But...I shouldn't have cut you off the   
way I did, without giving you a chance to explain. And I sure as   
hell shouldn't have lost my temper and hit you. I'm sorry, Fox."

Mulder shrugged, mouth twisting in a self-deprecating smirk. "I   
tend to have that effect on people." He studied Grey's face as if   
trying to decipher a code. "What exactly are you suggesting? That   
we each pursue our own line of inquiry?"

"Why not? Split up and we cover twice the ground."

"And avoid fratricide." Mulder's tone was teasing, but Scully   
detected an underlayer of bitterness. He hesitated a moment longer   
before nodding. "All right. If you're sure."

"I am." Grey punctuated his words with a jaw-cracking yawn that   
he unsuccessfully tried to smother behind his hand. "Guess Mark   
was right--I really am nearly asleep on my feet," he admitted   
wearily. "Think I'd better grab a quick nap."

"I believe the requirement was at least five hours--remember?"   
Scully cocked an eyebrow as if daring him to argue.

He chuckled, holding up both hands in surrender. "Yes, Ma'am."   
He scooped up Mulder's suitcase as he headed for the stairs. "I'll   
just put this back in your room. Wouldn't want anyone to trip over   
it."

Mulder waited for the sound of Grey's door closing before turning   
to Scully, arms folded. "You talked to him, didn't you?" His   
expression held a mixture of annoyance and affection.

Scully drained the last drops from the bottle and replaced the lid.   
"It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it."

"Do I even want to know what you said?"

"Probably not." She walked back to the kitchen and deposited the   
bottle in the recycling bin. Mulder leaned against the counter,   
looking pensive. She sighed.

"I told him the truth, Mulder. About you. About me. About the X-  
Files." One corner of her mouth turned up. "And I threw in a dash   
of verbal ass-kicking while I was at it."

Mulder feigned a wince. "Been there. No wonder he was   
exhausted."

She punched his arm, leaning companionably beside him.

"Nothing's really changed, you know," Mulder eventually   
continued, his voice very soft. "He still thinks I'm a playing   
without a full deck. It's just that this way he doesn't have to watch."

Scully moved to stand in front of him, chin high. "Then I guess   
you'd better deal with him in the usual manner."

He chuffed quietly. "Oh yeah? And what would that be?"

Her answering grin had a core of steel. "Prove him wrong."

 

Eagle Rock  
Thursday  
6:33 AM

 

Coffee.

Grey followed his nose down the stairs, draping his tie around his   
neck but leaving it undone. He rounded the corner to the kitchen,   
lips parted to bless whomever had turned on the coffeemaker, but   
pulled up short. 

The first pale threads of light seeped in through the sliding glass   
doors and onto his kitchen table. At least, he was pretty sure it was   
his table. At the moment it was completely hidden beneath faxes,   
emails, notepads, a large map...and his brother. Sprawled over the   
paperwork with cheek cradled on an extended arm, his deep, even   
breaths surprisingly loud in the stillness, Fox held a pen still poised   
in his hand. Dead to the world.

Grey stepped closer and after a moment's hesitation reached down,   
intending to pluck the pen from unresisting fingers.

"Just leave him, Grey."

The soft voice stalled his hand. He straightened, peering into the   
heavily shadowed family room for its owner. Dana sat curled on   
the couch, sipping coffee from one of his large, ceramic mugs.   
Grey retrieved another from the cupboard, filled it, and joined her.   
Clad in sweatpants and one of his brother's tee shirts, freshly   
washed hair tucked behind her ears, she looked like a college girl.   
Only her eyes, shadowed from weariness and too much pain, gave   
her away.

"Morning." He eased himself onto the cushions beside her and   
took a long, satisfying draught from his mug. "Thanks for making   
the coffee."

She smiled. "You're welcome, though I'm afraid my motives were   
less than altruistic. After a long night, it's the only thing that gets   
me moving." She chuckled quietly. "Mulder likens my first cup of   
the morning to a pair of jumper cables."

Grey tilted his chin toward his brother. "How long has he been like   
that?"

Scully checked her watch. "About three hours."

Grey nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee. "Three hours?"

"More or less."

"And you just left him there? The bedroom is right upstairs--hell,   
the couch is only five feet away."

Scully gave him a pitying look. "Either option requires waking   
him, Grey."

"So?"

She sighed. "You've seen him when he's immersed in a case, how   
driven he becomes. What do you think would have happened if I'd   
awakened him?"

Grey looked over at the motionless figure, lips twisting into a   
rueful smile. "He'd've gone right back to whatever he was working   
on."

"Exactly."

He winced. "I can't believe he's lasted three hours. He's going to   
have a helluva backache when he wakes up."

"He likes to call himself an insomniac, but when he's finally out he   
can sleep through just about anything." Her mouth quirked with a   
repressed grin. "He'll leverage my guilt into a backrub."

"I can just..."

The phone rang, and Grey scrambled up from the sofa to answer it.   
"Hello?...Hey, sweetheart, it's good to hear your voice..." The   
warmth faded, sorrow creeping in. "No. Nothing more so far..." He   
wandered out of the room and down the hall, voice becoming a   
distant rumble.

Mulder pushed himself upright with a groan. "I hope you got the   
license plate of that truck." Scrubbing his face with both hands, he   
blinked owlishly down at the tabletop. "Damn. I think I drooled on   
Minnesota."

Scully padded into the kitchen and poured a mug of coffee. She   
placed it into his hands, then attempted to smooth his spiky hair.   
"Well, they do call it the land of 10,000 lakes."

Mulder wrinkled his nose but refrained from reply. After several   
swallows of the hot liquid his eyes had sharpened from bleary to   
alert. "Did I hear the phone?"

She nodded. "Kristen, I think."

"Grey said she's stuck at a seminar in Chicago. She intends to get   
here by the weekend."

"I hope so." Scully gave up on his hair and sat down beside him.   
"He needs her. Maybe more than even he realizes." 

Mulder stretched, grimacing as tendons popped. He looked more   
closely at Scully, brow furrowed. "You showered? What time is   
it?"

"Just after six-thirty. You were out for about three hours."

"Three hours? Did you sleep?"

She nodded, cocking a thumb over her shoulder. "I stretched out on   
the couch for a while. I woke up about a half an hour ago, so I   
showered and made coffee. And don't even say it, Mulder, because   
you know why I left you here."

His scowl was more like a pout. "My back hurts."

"I've got some ibuprofen in my suitcase."

"Sculleee."

She smirked a bit, but stood and moved behind him. Digging her   
fingers into tight muscles, she peered over his shoulder at the map.   
"So, where were we?"

"Fourteen children gone missing over the last several days. Three   
in California," he touched the map with his index finger, "two each   
in Texas and Colorado...Ah, yeah. Right there, babe...and one each   
in Florida, Wisconsin, Illinois, Georgia, Ohio, Massachusetts..."

"And North Carolina," Scully finished quietly, massaging the back   
of his neck with both thumbs.

"The police reports we've seen so far all read the same. The kids   
range from eight to eleven years of age, both boys and girls. No   
witnesses to the abductions, and a complete lack of physical   
evidence at the crime scenes." He paused; shook his head. "Of the   
non-paranormal variety, anyway. However, the guys have been   
able to correlate UFO activity to each disappearance."

Scully gave his shoulders a parting squeeze and sat down. She   
picked up the faxed photo of a little girl with blonde pigtails. "The   
question still remains--why? Why Claire? Why any of these kids?"

Mulder shrugged. "You might ask the same of any abductee. Max   
Fenig, Duane Barry...I'm sure they wished for an answer."

"Are you suggesting this is only the beginning for these kids? That,   
even if returned, they face a future as human lab rats?"

Mulder slipped the photo from her fingers and replaced it with his   
hand. "I know it's not something either of us wants to consider,   
Scully. But I think we would be remiss not to acknowledge the   
possibility."

She latched onto his fingers, face pale. "If it's true... Mulder, I can't   
help wondering how prevalent this could be. Suppose what's in   
front of us is only the tip of the iceberg? Hundreds of children go   
missing every day..."

They stared at each other, stunned. Mulder released her hand and   
fumbled for his cell phone, hitting speed dial four. The Gunmen.

"Byers, it's me...Yeah, I do know what time it is. Look, I need you   
to do another search for me. Same parameters, only this time go   
back a year or two."

Scully collected both their mugs and took them to the sink, one ear   
on Mulder's conversation. Images of her own abduction pressed in   
upon her, a heavy weight on her chest that made it difficult to draw   
breath. The little she remembered of the experience was   
unbearable. That children could be forced to endure something   
similar was unthinkable.

She braced her palms on the counter, shivering. Remembering   
devastating vulnerability. Powerlessness. The ever present   
sensation of being watched by unfriendly eyes. And then, with a   
gut-wrenching twist, she was assaulted by a vivid image of Emily   
lying in her place.

Strong arms around her waist and solid warmth along her spine   
pulled her back from the abyss. She tensed, then melted into   
Mulder's embrace, blinking against the dark spots that danced   
before her eyes. He rocked her gently, stubble tickling her cheek as   
he murmured soothingly into her ear. Moments passed before   
words coalesced into meaning.

"Shhh. Scully, it's okay. Deep breaths. Slow it down, babe."

Abruptly, she realized she was gasping like a fish, respiration   
reduced to short, sharp pants for air, heart hammering wildly.   
Pressing her hands over Mulder's, she concentrated on the feeling   
of warmth and security until her tightly coiled body slowly   
relaxed.

"You all right?" Mulder's lips brushed across her temple while he   
kept her securely enveloped within his arms.

Scully nodded, not sure she could trust her voice. She felt raw, off   
balance, and oddly grateful he could not see her face.

"You want to talk about it?"

"I'm all right. The lack of sleep, the stress--it just got to me for a   
minute."

"Bullshit." The word was uttered without anger, as if he were   
making a statement of fact. She turned in his arms, frowning, but   
he cut her off before she could protest. "You had a flashback,   
Scully. Do you honestly think I don't recognize one when I see it?"

It took the wind out of her sails. He was right, of course. Denying   
it to Mulder, denying it to herself, wouldn't make it go away. She'd   
tried so hard to treat her abduction like an outdated appliance,   
packed up and stored away in a neatly labeled box. In actuality, it   
was more like an embarrassing page in the family photo album--  
something she continued to stumble over whenever she tried to   
move forward.

She wound her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to the   
soft cotton over his heart. "The one thing I remember with absolute   
clarity is the fear." She uttered the words haltingly, with effort.   
"The unmitigated terror of being completely at the mercy of others   
outweighed even the pain they inflicted."

"It was like you were there. Experiencing it all over again."   
Mulder's voice was as gentle as the hand that stroked her hair.

"At first it was me. But then..." She steeled herself; took a calming   
breath. "Then it was Emily."

His hand stilled, coming to rest on the back of her neck. "Ah,   
Scully."

The ache in his voice soothed a bit of her own sorrow. "I'm all   
right, Mulder."

He pulled back a little to study her face. "I know you are." His   
smile was a bit grim. "This case is bound to push some buttons.   
For both of us."

"I'm heading into the station, so if you two..." Grey paused just   
inside the doorway to the kitchen, gaze shifting between their   
faces. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," Scully said, releasing Mulder and returning to   
the mugs in the sink. "How is Kristen?"

A little of the weariness lifted from Grey's face. "Bored. She'd cut   
out early but she's scheduled to make a presentation today at one.   
She'll catch a four o'clock flight and should get in around seven."

Scully smiled. "I'm glad."

"Yeah. Me, too." 

Grey replaced the phone on its cradle and leaned one hip against   
the counter, watching her set the rinsed cups in the dish drainer.   
After an awkward moment of silence, Mulder walked over to the   
table, slipped on his glasses, and began shuffling paperwork.   
Scully observed them surreptitiously as she dried her hands. Both   
appeared willing to look everywhere but at each other, and the   
tension between them was tangible.

Grey cleared his throat. "I, uh, got to be heading in to work. Y'all   
should feel free to help yourself to anything edible in the fridge."

Scully waited until it became clear that Mulder, his head bent over   
the paperwork, wasn't going to respond. She gave Grey a tight little   
smile. "I'm surprised you're still here. I expected you to grab a   
quick nap and sneak back to the station. Mark must be tougher   
than I thought."

Grey snorted and shook his head, a flash of his old self surfacing.   
"Mark? Nah, he's nothing but a big softie. Truth is, I called down   
there just after midnight but didn't see much point to going in. He   
had the database stuff under control, and we couldn't start making   
the rounds until morning."

Scully glanced over at Mulder, who was scribbling on a notepad   
with great concentration. If he sensed her attempt to draw him into   
the conversation, he was ignoring it. She plunged onward.   
"So...you're searching the FBI database for known offenders in the   
area?"

"That's the plan. We'll pare down the list as much as possible and   
start checking them out." An uneasy silence. Grey abruptly   
straightened and scooped up the clean mugs, carrying them to the   
cupboard. "Did that fax machine work okay for you last night?"

"Like a charm." Scully walked over and tapped a stack of paper on   
the tabletop. "We were able to collect police reports for eight out   
of the fourteen missing children. Including Claire's, of course. We   
should be able to get the rest today, right Mulder?"

Mulder nodded without pausing in his note taking. Obviously   
distancing himself from the conversation and Grey, damn him.

"Fourteen? All missing like Claire?" Grey's attempt to sound   
casual failed pitifully.

"That's right. What was it again, Mulder? Eight girls and six   
boys?"

"Nine and five." Mulder lifted his head at last, pinning her with a   
glare that said he knew exactly what she was up to.

Grey stepped closer. "Did they all disappear from their beds?"

"No. But all were taken from their homes, at night. No signs of   
forced entry. No physical evidence of an intruder. No witnesses."

Grey's jaw dropped, then snapped shut. He folded his arms. "Kids   
go missing every day. Half the time the guilty party is a relative   
and forced entry isn't an issue. Just because it wasn't the case for   
Claire, doesn't mean it didn't happen to one or more of those kids."

Mulder picked up several sheets of paper. "There are other   
similarities to Claire's case, Grey. Reports of lights in the sky.   
Power outages. Heat damage. I can show you..."

Grey raised both hands, palms out. "We had a deal, remember,   
Fox? You steer clear of my investigation and I don't interfere with   
yours."

"If you would just listen for one minute..."

"I don't have a minute." Grey's voice dropped ten degrees, a clear   
warning. 

Mulder thrust his jaw out and turned away. Picking up the pad and   
pen, he doggedly continued to take notes. Anger expressed clearly   
in the stiff set of his shoulders and the short, controlled motion of   
his hands.

"I'll have my cell phone on if you need to reach me." Grey   
addressed the words to Scully. Posture as rigid as his brother's, he   
was out of the kitchen without waiting for acknowledgement.

Scully's eyes slipped shut in resignation.

*End round two. Both parties to their neutral corners.*

*Sure. Fine. Whatever.*


	3. Chapter 3

Eagle Rock  
Thursday  
10:28 AM

 

She'd reached critical mass at 9:30. One more minute of pacing, of   
tapping pens, fingers, and toes, of crunching and spitting, and   
Scully was certain she'd be facing charges of manslaughter. She   
doubted any judge would convict her. Mulder was a bundle of   
nerves, snide and sharp-tongued one minute, subdued and   
apologetic the next. At 9:30 she'd plucked the pen from his hand   
and dumped his sweats in his lap, steely eyes daring him to argue. 

He'd just gazed up at her with that trademark smirk. "You know   
what, Scully? Think I'll take a run."

With his departure the house had settled into blessed silence, and   
she'd seized the opportunity to gather her thoughts.

There were good reasons for law enforcement officers not to   
investigate cases involving their family members. Grey's lack of   
objectivity had already proven to be a problem, but Scully was   
beginning to worry about Mulder and herself as well. Samantha   
issues aside, for Mulder this case had become as much about   
proving himself to his brother as finding Claire. Then there was her   
earlier loss of control, and the raw, bruised feeling that even now   
lingered in her chest... Who was left to view the evidence with a   
dispassionate, assessing eye?

From nowhere, an image popped into her head--she and Mulder   
lying on a moonlit beach, bodies entwined, making love under a   
backdrop of stars. The soothing hiss of waves meeting sand. The   
taste of salt and his kisses. And, most of all, the soul-deep   
sensation of peace and contentment she could see reflected on his   
face. Why did it seem those moments, too few and infrequent,   
were inevitably snatched from their grasp? 

Her conversation with Rosa echoed in her head...

*My mother says it's the strongest character that God gives the most   
challenges.*

*Your mama is a wise woman, chiquita. It would seem He has   
challenges for you both.*

Mulder's phone trilled, a jarring interruption to stillness and deep   
thoughts. It rang four times before she found it buried beneath a   
pile of faxes and scooped it up, breathless.

"Scully."

"Ah, the better half."

"Good morning to you too, Frohike."

"Where's my man Mulder?"

"Out for a run. Do you have the information he requested?"

"Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

"We're still working on it, but I knew you'd be interested in what   
we've found so far."

"I'm listening."

"Like I said, we're still collecting data. But it looks like the events   
of the last few days are a repeat of something that happened six   
months ago. The circumstances appear nearly identical."

Scully's mouth worked impotently for a moment as her brain   
struggled to process what she'd just heard. "What exactly are you   
saying, Frohike? That there was another series of missing   
children?"

"Missing kids, documented UFO activity, the whole nine yards.   
The names and locations are different, but the rest is carbon copy."   
He paused. "With a twist."

"A twist?"

"They came back, Scully. Exactly three days after they   
disappeared, all the kids turned up."

Something in his voice put Scully on alert. "What do you mean,   
they 'turned up'?"

"We're still verifying newspaper articles and police reports. But   
from what we've seen so far, every kid was found very close to   
wherever they were when they went missing."

There it was again, the slightest edge of discomfort in Frohike's   
tone. Apprehension fluttered in Scully's stomach.

"Frohike, what is it you're not telling me?"

An even longer pause--she could almost see him consulting with   
Byers and Langly. When he did speak, he sounded almost   
apologetic.

"This is the part we're still working on, but...the kids...they're dead,   
Scully."

She folded into a chair, heart pounding and mouth dry. "All of   
them?"

"We've confirmed eight out of ten. No details on what killed them   
yet, only that they were in a comatose state when found. Most died   
within a week; one lived nearly three."

Scully closed her eyes against a heartbreakingly clear image of   
Claire's small face. "We'll need names, dates, locations..."

"That's actually the reason I called. One of the kids, Jessica   
Chapman, was from Boone, North Carolina. Thought you'd want   
to know."

"You were right. Fax us everything you've got on her, ASAP. And   
keep us posted on the rest." She drew a hand down her face;   
sighed. "Thank you, Frohike. You've been very helpful."

"No problemo." She was reaching for the disconnect button,   
certain he'd signed off, when he added, "Sorry we don't have better   
news. Tell Grey..."

"I will."

Scully had just replaced the phone on the table when the front door   
slammed. Mulder breezed into the kitchen a moment later, sweaty   
and flushed with cold air and exertion. He grabbed a bottle of   
water from the refrigerator, sent the cap spinning into the garbage   
can, and chugged half its contents. Lowering it with a sigh of   
contentment, he brushed the back of his hand across his lips and   
looked at her for the first time. The animation drained from his   
face as he studied hers.

"What is it, Scully?"

She told him Frohike's news, then followed him upstairs where the   
fax machine was already spitting out pages. They passed them   
back and forth in silence, stunned by the ramifications of what they   
were reading.

Jessica Chapman, age 9. Disappeared from the backyard of her   
home just after dusk on a hot summer evening. No physical   
evidence of her abductor. No witnesses. No phone calls or   
demands for ransom. Found three days later in a patch of tall grass   
at the edge of the property, unconscious. Dead five days after that   
from undisclosed trauma, presumably inflicted by her kidnapper.   
Picture of a vivacious little girl with a page boy haircut and an   
impish smile. A quote from her grief-stricken mother: "I don't   
understand. Things like this don't happen in Boone. We've always   
felt safe here."

Mulder pulled off his glasses and rubbed bloodshot eyes. "We've   
got to go to Boone. Today. Talk to the parents, the doctors. We   
have to find out what really happened. If the timetable holds..."

"How far is Boone?"

"Near the Tennessee border. I'd guess a three, maybe four hour   
drive." He picked up the photo but Scully could tell he was seeing   
the face of a different little girl. 

"We take this one step at a time, Mulder."

His gaze shifted from the photo to her face, something just short of   
anger lurking behind his eyes. "The implications are clear."

"Implications won't help Claire. We need facts."

One corner of his mouth curved upward in the parody of a smile.   
"In my experience the facts haven't helped a helluva lot either." He   
replaced his glasses and began gathering the pages into a neat pile.   
"You know it better than anyone, Scully. Identifying the cause of a   
nightmare is easy. Curing it...that's something else altogether."

The memory of Emily's flushed face and fever-bright eyes stole   
any rebuttal she might have attempted. She took the papers from   
Mulder's hands and gestured to the phone. "We'll need to spend the   
night in Boone. I'll pack us a bag; you give Grey a call."

"Ah..."

She made it to their bedroom before his voice stopped her.   
Looking over her shoulder, she found him leaning in the doorway,   
features arranged into a carefully passive mask.

"Why don't I pack the bag and you can let Grey know what's   
happening?"

Scully struggled to keep her own poker face. Like she couldn't see   
that one coming from a mile away. Turning, arms laced across her   
chest, she propped her weight on one hip.

"For two very good reasons, Mulder. Number one--the last time I   
let you pack our overnight bag, you forgot a few little...necessities.   
Like underwear. *My* underwear."

She knew he'd never be able to resist, and of course, he didn't.   
"See, now that's where we differ, babe. I don't consider underwear   
a necessity."

"Really? I don't seem to remember you going commando anytime   
in the recent past."

"You've been checking? Scully, have I stumbled upon an   
unfulfilled fantasy?"

"*Number two.*" She'd walked right into that one. "I'm not going to   
act as a go-between for you and your brother. I didn't like it in the   
sixth grade when Amy Milligan coerced me into asking Jack   
Pritchard if he liked her; I sure as hell don't intend to reprise the   
role as an adult."

"Fine, I'll do it." Mulder disappeared only to pop back a moment   
later. "And I just want to draw your attention to the fact that I'm   
forgoing the wealth of opportunities presented by that childhood   
tidbit."

His voice was light, the words teasing, yet Scully sensed a darker   
emotion beneath their surface. She tugged Mulder's duffel from   
beneath the bed and began filling it with a change of clothes,   
wishing for a suit and pumps to replace slacks and loafers. Bad   
enough she and Mulder had a dearth of clothing suitable for cold   
weather. If the case dragged on much longer, a shopping trip   
would be unavoidable.

She moved quickly and efficiently--if partnering with Mulder had   
taught her anything, it was how to pack a bag at a minute's notice.   
When she was satisfied she'd overlooked nothing, Scully zipped up   
the duffel and carried it downstairs. She left it on the tile by the   
front door and went in search of Mulder.

He was standing in front of the sliding glass doors, staring out at   
the backyard. Teeth gnawing his lower lip, cell phone clenched in   
his fist, it wasn't difficult to judge his state of mind. She walked   
over to stand beside him. Waiting.

"Guess we didn't do such a bad job building that shed after all. It's   
still standing, anyway."

She remained quiet, letting him talk. Sometimes Mulder had to   
take the long route to reach what he really wanted to say. He'd get   
there, eventually.

The silence stretched long between them before he spoke again.   
"His cell said he was unavailable. I had to leave a voicemail."   
Another long pause. "I was glad, Scully. I was glad I didn't have to   
talk to my own brother."

The lost quality to his voice bothered her less than the resignation.   
Scully tugged on his arm, pulling him over to sit in one of the   
kitchen chairs. She stepped between his knees, one hand brushing   
through his hair before coming to rest on his cheek.

"The days of running are over, Mulder. You're not alone anymore--  
you have a family, people in your life who care about you. That   
means weathering the bad times, working through them even when   
it hurts like hell. Not shutting yourself off to numb the pain."

He jerked away from her touch, eyes flat and hard. "Being part of a   
family shouldn't mean baring your jugular and then handing over a   
knife."

"Nor should it mean hiding all sharp objects."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know." Scully kept her voice gentle but firm. "I think   
you experienced it first hand, after your sister was taken. Your   
mother, your father... They taught you to guard your heart, love.   
But now it's time to unlearn that lesson; it's time to take a risk.   
Grey's worth it--isn't he?"

Mulder looked away and his throat worked convulsively. "You   
don't understand." The words were rough and thick with anger and   
tears. "Losing Sam was almost more than I could bear. I felt I'd let   
her down, that it was my fault I lost her. I've finally--" he sucked in   
a shaky breath--"*finally* come to accept that what happened was   
beyond my control. 

"But, don't you see, Scully, if I lose Grey now it *will* be on my   
shoulders. A direct result of who I am. And I don't think..." He   
choked on the words, jaw tightly clenched. "I *know* that I can't   
open myself up to that. Better to pull back now and salvage what I   
can."

How could someone be so intuitive in some areas and blind in   
others? Scully laid her hand on the top of his head, not stroking or   
caressing, just connecting.

"Mulder, pulling back is the only thing that will cause you to lose   
Grey. This is a crossroads in your relationship, an opportunity for   
it to evolve into something deeper, stronger. Do you remember   
what Rosa said to you? Dark times will either pull souls together or   
tear them apart. *You* have to choose."

He stared at her for a disconcertingly long moment, then wrapped   
his arms around her and rested his cheek against her belly. "You   
make it sound simple."

She chuckled, petting the hair beneath her fingers. "It's an illusion.   
I'm sure you've noticed I'm not always the most open person   
myself. But I'm trying, Mulder. For you. For us."

He chuffed quietly, breath warming her stomach through the thin   
cotton of her shirt. "Guess we're both works in process." Another   
squeeze and he released her, standing up. "Bag all packed?"

"Packed and ready to go. I left it by the front door."

He glanced at his watch. "Let me grab a quick shower and we'll hit   
the road. If we make good time we should be able to get there   
before dark." He cocked an eyebrow at her as they left the kitchen.   
"Did you remember your underwear?"

Scully gave him a longsuffering look. "First thing in the bag."

"Damn."

She followed him up the stairs, hiding a smirk. He'd neglected to   
ask if she'd packed his.

 

Boone, NC  
Thursday  
4:18 PM

 

"You mind telling me why the FBI is so interested in this file?"   
Sheriff Paxton kept one hand atop the folder, a decidedly   
suspicious glint in his eyes.

"It's an open kidnapping case, isn't it?" Mulder's answer was mild,   
his face guileless.

"Depends on your definition of open. That case hasn't seen any   
action in almost five months." Paxton's words might be directed   
toward Mulder, but his eyes were busy conducting a geological   
survey of Scully's figure.

Mulder clamped his teeth together until his jaw ached. "Did you   
find the kidnapper?"

That captured the sheriff's attention and cooled his tone another ten   
degrees. "You know we didn't."

"Then it's an open case." With great effort Mulder refrained from   
uttering any one of at least five follow-up digs that popped into his   
head. Barely.

Scully shot him a quelling look before smiling politely at Paxton.   
"I'm sure you're very busy, but before you leave us, Sheriff, is   
there anything not in this file that, in your expert opinion, you feel   
we should know about this case?"

Mulder shoved his hands into his pockets and tucked chin to chest,   
chewing on his lower lip to stifle a grin. No one could schmooze   
the locals better than Scully--in one sentence she'd managed to ask   
Paxton to leave while still stroking his ego. He watched from   
beneath his lashes as Paxton smoothed silver hair, chest puffed   
with self-importance.

"I run a thorough, by-the-book department here, ma'am. If it's   
important to the case, it'll be in that file. Whoever took that little   
girl--if someone did indeed take her--was very careful not to leave   
a speck of trace evidence. Sad to say, there just wasn't much to   
investigate."

Mulder looked up, eyebrows raised. "*If* someone took her?"

Paxton shrugged, his gaze crawling over Scully's body as he spoke.   
"Like I said, we found no evidence of a kidnapper. This is a close-  
knit community, Agent Mulder. Little girls don't get snatched from   
their yards without somebody noticing."

"What are you saying?" Scully folded her arms across her chest--  
whether in irritation or self-defense, Mulder couldn't have said.

"If you ask me, I think the child wandered off. Maybe she was   
angry with Mom and Dad for making her eat green beans, I dunno.   
It's easy enough to get lost out here, turned around until you don't   
know what direction you're headed. Maybe a simple sulk turned   
into more than she bargained for."

Mulder didn't attempt to hide his scorn. "You think she just headed   
into the forest with no food, no water? Do you really believe a   
nine-year-old girl could survive for three days under those   
circumstances?"

Paxton's eyes narrowed. "Well, she didn't exactly survive, now, did   
she?"

Mulder bristled. "That's..."

"...an interesting theory, Sheriff." Scully laid a restraining hand on   
Mulder's arm as she reached for the folder. "Thank you for sharing   
your thoughts with us. We'll let you know if we need anything   
else."

Paxton glared at Mulder for a moment longer before relinquishing   
the file. He tipped his chin at Scully-- "Ma'am" -- and swaggered   
out of the room.

Mulder yanked a chair away from the table and sat, muttering   
something that sounded suspiciously like "redneck" under his   
breath. Scully eased into her own seat with a bit more finesse, lips   
twitching.

"Mulder, let it go."

"'Angry with Mom and Dad for making her eat green beans'? What   
kind of a lame theory is that?"

"I'm forced to point out that he'd consider your own theory to be   
equally without merit. We both know he's fallen off the track, so..."

"Fallen off the track? You're kidding, right?" Mulder leaned in   
closer, jerking his thumb toward the door. "He'd need a map to   
locate the track. Maybe if he kept his mind on business he'd have   
some answers for what happened to that little girl."

"Kept his mind on business? Mulder, are you jealous?" She poked   
her tongue into her cheek, but the grin still tugged at the corners of   
her mouth. "The man must be at least sixty years old."

"Yeah, well there's nothing wrong with his eyesight, given the way   
he kept taking inventory."

She rolled her eyes. "Can we look at the file now?"

Despite its eerie similarity to Claire's case, the investigation into   
Jessica Chapman's disappearance and reappearance offered little   
insight into what really had happened. As they read through the   
documentation, Scully found herself drawn again and again to a   
black-and-white crime scene photo of weeds crushed and flattened   
in the shape of a little girl's body.

"It says here that there were no outward signs of physical trauma,"   
Mulder said. "No bruises or contusions. She was clean and dressed   
in the same clothing as when she disappeared. Yet she was   
completely unresponsive, even to painful stimulus."

"There could be many explanations for that, Mulder. Trauma to the   
brain can occur from something as simple as a sudden, violent   
motion of the head, the so-called 'shaken baby syndrome.' Not to   
mention the number of chemical compounds that would be   
undetectable on a routine toxicology screen." Scully flipped   
through several pages of witness statements before locating the   
autopsy report.

"Her older sister Theresa, age...14, found her." Mulder arranged   
his features in a neutral expression. "She was coming home from a   
friend's house, cutting across the backyard. After several   
unsuccessful attempts to wake Jessica, she ran and got her mother,   
who called police and EMTs."

"Oh my God." Scully's soft gasp pulled his attention from the   
paperwork. Her gaze flickered rapidly across the autopsy report.

"What is it?"

"The coma... I'd guessed it was due to internal damage. But this..."   
She swallowed; shook her head. "A CT scan at the hospital   
showed, and the autopsy confirms, that a small section of Jessica's   
cerebral cortex near the parietal lobe was excised."

"Excised? You mean someone cut out a piece of her brain?" 

"Yes--" Scully licked her lips, "--and no. Though a section of brain   
tissue was clearly missing, she displayed none of the   
corresponding effects of major brain surgery--her head had not   
been shaved, there was no incision, and the skull remained intact.   
Mulder..." She shook her head as if trying to break out of a daze.   
"It's as if the tissue was neatly extracted without cutting her open."

Mulder stared at her, vindication and dread churning his stomach.   
"And how could that be accomplished, Dr. Scully?"

"It couldn't. Not by any medical technology currently available."

"On this planet, anyway."

She ignored his jibe. "I've never seen anything like this. According   
to the report, Jessica's EEG showed massive amounts of   
electroconductivity."

"What does that mean?"

"It's analogous to an electrical storm across the brain's surface. A   
comprehensive, rapid misfiring of neurons that essentially   
paralyzed brain function."

"As in brain death?"

"Clinically, it's the antithesis of brain death, but with the same   
impact on the body's systems--an irreversible vegetative state."   
Scully flipped the report closed and looked up at him, face grim.   
"A condition similar, in some respects, to what you experienced   
after exposure to the artifact. In Jessica's case, her body's systems   
began to shut down. Her parents eventually made the decision to   
terminate life support."

Mulder ran a hand along his jaw. Weariness settled across his   
shoulders like a heavy blanket, and he could read exhaustion in   
Scully's eyes. "We need to talk to Jessica's family. Tonight."

"I have the home number right here. I'll call and find out if they're   
willing to see us." Scully pulled out her cell phone, but made no   
move to dial the number.

"Scully?"

She sighed. "It's been six months. I hate to reopen wounds just   
beginning to heal."

"We have no choice, Scully, and neither do they. They're witnesses   
in an ongoing investigation into the kidnapping and murder of not   
only their own child, but others as well. Claire's life may depend   
on what we can learn from Jessica."

"I know that, Mulder. I also know how it feels to lose a child. So   
I'd appreciate a bit less logic and a little more compassion, if you   
don't mind." She stood up, phone in hand, pointedly ignoring   
Mulder's stunned expression. "Why don't you see if you can make   
a copy of that file? I'll meet you by the front door."

She'd marched halfway across the room when he found his voice.   
"I was there too, Scully."

She jerked to a stop, but it was a moment before she slowly turned   
to face him. The anguish in her eyes made his throat ache. "I know   
you were, Mulder, but you'll never understandÖ She wasn't *your*   
child. And I realize we have to talk to the Chapmans. I'm just tired.   
Tired of seeing little girls treated like lab rats. And tired of being   
powerless to stop it. Samantha, Emily, Jessica, and now Claire...   
When is it going to stop, Mulder? When are we ever going to do   
more than pick up the pieces?"

He stood and walked over, enveloping her trembling body in his   
arms. "I'm tired too. But every time we pick up the pieces, we put a   
little more of the puzzle together. And one day we *will* stop them,   
Scully. I promise you that."

She buried her face against his chest, her reply muffled by the soft   
material of his shirt. "I want to believe, Mulder. I really do."

 

808 Larkspur Lane  
6:23 PM

 

Sometimes she forgot how good he was at this.

From the moment Sharon Chapman had opened the front door,   
Mulder had taken charge, shepherding the still grieving couple   
through a barrage of difficult and often painful questions with tact   
and sensitivity. Scully winced at the thought of her earlier outburst,   
fueled by stress and fatigue. Though Mulder's pursuit of the truth   
could be relentless, it was tempered by deep compassion and   
empathy. Time and time again she'd seen victims sense this and   
respond--Duane Barry, Lucy Householder, Marty Glenn...

The Chapmans, initially wary and reserved, had proved to be no   
exception.

"The doctors ran every test they could think of, but came up   
empty." Kevin Chapman, shook his head, hands clasped tightly   
between his knees. Though Mulder's age, he looked nearly a   
decade older. "How can you fix something if you don't understand   
what's broken?"

"No one could tell us *why* Jess was...the way she was. She looked   
just like she had when she ran out to play that night, there wasn't a   
mark on her, not a scrape or a bruise. When I picked her up out of   
those weeds, I thought, 'Thank God! My baby's home, she's come   
back to me.' And then I realized she wasn't responding..." Mrs.   
Chapman's eyes welled up, but she blinked back the tears. "When   
the doctors compared her condition to brain death, I was sure there   
must be some mistake. I still believed she'd wake up any minute   
and prove them all fools."

Her husband reached over to clasp her trembling hand between his   
own. "They told us there was no hope. That Jessica's systems were   
shutting down. We could either prolong the inevitable--" the   
ragged words caught in his throat, which he cleared with an   
unsteady breath, "--or let her go. I wonder every day if we made   
the right choice." He directed the last at Scully, wounded eyes   
begging for any absolution she might grant.

As she was hunting for a response, Mulder spoke. "You made a   
judgement call based on your love for your daughter. There was no   
wrong decision."

And that, Scully reflected wryly, was why she put up with the   
man's crap. Beneath the occasionally insensitive bastard was a soul   
who felt others' pain as keenly as his own.

"We'd like your permission to look at Jessica's medical records and   
speak with her doctors," she said aloud, offering Mulder the barest   
curve of her lips. 

"You still haven't told us why you're here." Kevin, who owned and   
managed a small grocery store in town, had proved to be astute and   
perceptive--far from the "small town hick" stereotype. "Why have   
two agents come all the way from Washington DC to look into   
Jess's kidnapping--especially after all this time?"

Mulder's eyes flicked to Scully's before meeting Chapman's.   
"There's been an incident near Raleigh. A little girl has gone   
missing under circumstances similar to Jessica's. Our hope is that   
something we learn from this case may help us to help her."

"Dear God." His wife searched their faces. "You think the same   
person who hurt Jessica kidnapped that child? Like a serial   
murderer?"

Scully gave her partner a warning look. "We really can't be certain   
of anything at this point."

Mulder picked up a framed photograph from an end table--Jessica   
and an older girl with arms slung around each other's necks, both   
dressed in hiking boots and backpacks. "Do you do much hiking?"

Mr. Chapman's wistful smile erased a few of the lines around his   
dark eyes. "Our favorite family activity. I started taking the girls   
out as soon as they could walk. By the time she was five Jessica   
could hike several miles without asking to be carried."

"So young? Weren't you afraid she'd wander off, become lost?"

"I kept a close eye on her, of course. Taught her all the basics   
about safety and woodcraft, what to do if you ever become   
separated from your group." He huffed. "Compared to some of the   
city folks we see camping around here, both my girls were pros."

Mulder's eyes grazed Scully's as he replaced the photo. She heard   
his message loud and clear. So much for Sheriff Paxton's theory   
that Jessica had simply wandered off and lost her way. 

He leaned forward, forearms propped on his knees. "Mr. and Mrs.   
Chapman, would you mind if we spoke to Theresa?"

The couple stiffened, defenses raised. Some sort of nonverbal   
communication passed between them before Sharon spoke. "I don't   
really see what possible help she could be."

"According to the police report, she was the one who found   
Jessica." 

"That's right. But she didn't see anything." Mr. Chapman glanced   
at the staircase; lowered his voice. "Agent Mulder, Theresa and   
Jessica were very close. Finding her little sister that   
way...well...Theresa had nightmares for weeks after Jess's death."   
His expression hardened. "Being grilled by the police didn't help. I   
know you're just trying to do your job, but you can't imagine what   
it's like from this end, especially for a child..."

"My younger sister was abducted from our home when I was   
twelve. I was the only one there at the time, the only witness to the   
crime." Scully glanced sharply at her partner, surprised by his   
admission. Mulder's gaze never wavered from the Chapmans'   
faces. "Believe me, sir, I understand. I won't say or do anything to   
upset Theresa."

Another silent consultation and Mr. Chapman slowly nodded his   
head. "All right. As long as she agrees."

"Thank you."

Mr. Chapman paused by the staircase. "Did you ever find out what   
happened to your sister, Agent Mulder?"

A loaded question. Scully watched her partner fumble for a   
response.

"She was raised by another family, but died when she was   
fourteen."

"I'm sorry."

Mulder met Scully's eyes; smiled. "It was a long time ago."

An awkward silence descended as they waited for Mr. Chapman to   
return with Theresa. Mrs. Chapman stood and walked over to the   
bay window, gazing into the darkness.

"This other little girl--how long has she been missing?"

"Nearly three days," Scully answered.

For a moment the woman's only response was the slump of her   
shoulders. When she did speak, the words were nearly inaudible.   
"Whoever her mother is, I hope to God she doesn't have to endure   
what I have."

Footsteps on the stairs, and Mr. Chapman returned with the older   
girl from the photo. Theresa's face was longer and thinner than her   
sister's, her hair a darker shade of blonde. Still, the sibling   
relationship was obvious. She perched on the edge of a chair,   
eyeing Mulder and Scully with some trepidation.

Scully's warm smile and gentle tone were calculated to put her at   
ease. "Theresa, I'm Agent Scully, and this is my partner, Agent   
Mulder. We just want to ask you a few questions about the night   
you found your sister. Would that be all right?"

A long pause as Theresa's gaze moved from mother to father,   
evidently reassured by what she saw. "Okay."

"You were on your way home from a friend's house--is that   
correct?"

Theresa nodded. "Stacey lives right behind us."

"You were alone?" Scully couldn't help voicing some surprise.

"Of course not, " Mr. Chapman interrupted, plainly defensive. "For   
all we knew Jessica's kidnapper was still in the area. Stacey's father   
walked Theresa home."

Scully frowned. "I don't understand. The police report only lists   
Theresa as finding her sister."

Theresa ducked her head, flushing. "That's not when I found her.   
I...um...went back outside. Mom and Dad didn't know." She darted   
a sheepish glance at her parents. "I'd dropped a pack of gel pens   
somewhere along the way and I was pretty sure I knew where. So I   
took a flashlight and went out to find them."

"And found more than you bargained for." Scully's voice was   
gentle.

Theresa swallowed, eyes glistening. "Yeah."

"And you didn't see anyone else? In one of the adjacent yards or   
walking along the street?"

"No. Nobody."

Scully nodded. "Thank you, Theresa. We appreciate you talking to   
us."

"I have one more question." Mulder smiled encouragingly when   
Theresa appeared startled by his abrupt interjection. "It's an easy   
one. Theresa, when you were walking home with Mr. Cooper, did   
anything unusual or interesting happen?"

Her forehead crinkled as she tried to process his question. "No."   
She caught herself; smirking a bit. "Unless you call Jimmy Joyce   
still setting off fireworks a month after Fourth of July interesting."

Mulder leaned in closer, his face bland. "Fireworks?"

She nodded, disdain transforming her from fourteen to thirty-two.   
"I don't know what it was, but it made a real big flash. Lit up our   
whole backyard, and Stacey's, too. Mr. Cooper said he was gonna   
call the cops, but he always says that when Jimmy's causing   
trouble, and he never does."

Mulder's answering grin didn't touch his eyes. "Thank you,   
Theresa. I know it wasn't easy for you to talk about this. You've   
been very helpful."

She shrugged, offering a shy smile. "You're welcome."

They all stood and began the niceties for Mulder and Scully to   
make their exit. Mulder had one hand on the doorknob and Scully   
was already standing on the front porch, when Theresa peered   
around her father.

"Agent Mulder, the little girl who's missing--does she have a sister   
to find her?"

Only Scully was able to see the hairline fracture in Mulder's   
professional facade. He blinked, then looked somberly at the little   
girl. "No, Theresa. But she has me."

Scully placed a firm hand on his arm, her voice pitched for his ears   
alone. "She has us both."

 

St. Mary's Hospital  
Thursday  
8:47 PM

 

Dr. Joshua Keating, neurologist, was not pleased.

He sat stiffly behind his large mahogany desk, drumming fingers   
and increasingly sour expression clearly communicating   
impatience. Hardly surprising. If the string of agitated nurses he'd   
left in his wake was any indication, the good doctor was not   
accustomed to being kept waiting.

Scully, by contrast, presented the picture of calm. Settled   
comfortably into the leather-cushioned chair, legs crossed, she   
worked her way through Jessica Chapman's medical file, scanning   
reports and examining test results with thorough and unhurried   
attention to detail. To the casual observer she appeared completely   
oblivious to Keating's barely restrained irritation. Mulder alone   
recognized that she was deliberately ignoring the doctor--by the   
obstinate line between her brows and the occasional tightening of   
her lips when Keating's fidgeting disrupted her concentration.

He leaned back into his own chair, answering the doctor's   
longsuffering glare with a studiously bland look to conceal his   
amusement.

*Tsk, tsk, Agent Scully. Who's not playing nice now?*

Keating propped his arms on his desk and cleared his throat. "Can   
we get on with this? I spent ten hours in surgery today and another   
two writing up my notes. The last thing I needed was to be dragged   
back here less than an hour after I arrived home."

Scully continued reading, leaving Mulder to smooth ruffled   
feathers. He pasted on his most diplomatic smile.

"As I said over the phone, doctor, we do apologize for the late   
hour. The time-sensitive nature of our investigation prohibited us   
from waiting until morning."

Keating's scowl deepened. "Jessica Chapman died six months ago,   
Agent Mulder. I fail to see the urgency."

All right, so he sucked at diplomacy. Why should Scully have all   
the fun?

"If I'm not mistaken, Dr. Keating, the true cause of Jessica   
Chapman's death was an overabundance of ignorance--on the part   
of police who failed to determine the specific details of her   
abduction, and a medical community that could neither adequately   
diagnose her condition nor devise a cure. Now there's another little   
girl missing under nearly identical circumstances whose parents   
would consider your input extremely helpful. Does that fit your   
definition of urgent?"

Keating turned purple. "Now look here, I did everything possible   
for that little girl..."

"Dr. Keating, I'm certain Agent Mulder didn't mean to imply you   
were less than thorough in your treatment of Jessica Chapman."   
Scully directed an upraised eyebrow and a quelling look at Mulder   
before turning her attention to Keating. "From the her chart I can   
see that you tried all the conventional approaches to handling what   
was, indeed, a very unconventional condition."

Keating huffed, shooting Mulder his own glare before favoring   
Scully with a thin smile. "As you can see, I consulted with   
colleagues in Ashville during every step of the treatment.   
Unfortunately our efforts proved too little, too late. In layman's   
terms, the child's brain simply went into overdrive until it burned   
itself out. All her life-sustaining systems began to fail within   
twenty-four hours after she was admitted. There was simply   
nothing we could do to save her."

"According to the chart, you tried heavy doses of anticonvulsants.   
There were no discernable effects?"

Keating ran a hand over his face, weariness replacing self-  
righteousness. For the first time they saw not an arrogant surgeon,   
but a frustrated healer. "None. Considering we had previous data to   
show that Jessica responded to Zarontin, I'd hoped that in   
combination with Tegretol it might at least achieve some   
dampening of the electrical activity across the brain's surface."

Scully sat up a little straighter. "Jessica had been on Zarontin prior   
to this incident?"

"Not over the past twelve months, but yes, Jessica Chapman had a   
history of epilepsy. Nothing severe, just the occasional petit mal--  
or what we now call absence seizure. Her pediatrician had   
maintained her on a low dose of Zarontin for several years."

Scully frowned. "We spoke with her parents earlier this evening.   
They never mentioned it."

"My understanding was that she'd outgrown the condition. As I   
said, she hadn't been medicated for it in over a year."

As Scully flipped back through the chart, armed with this new   
piece of information, Mulder cleared his throat. "Dr. Keating, do   
you have any explanation for the missing brain tissue?"

Keating's wry laugh surprised them both. "Unless someone's   
invented one of those gizmos the doctor on Star Trek had, no, I   
don't. We're not talking an area of dead tissue, Agent Mulder. It   
was extracted--surgically, I'd say, if I could only have found the   
damn incision." He shook his head. "Ironic, really."

Scully looked up. "How so?"

"The area that had been removed? It was the exact section of   
affected tissue that had caused the child's earlier bout with   
epilepsy. What are the odds of that?"

"I'm beginning to wonder." Mulder's muttered response was nearly   
inaudible, spoken more to himself than the others.

Scully's gaze was sharp, but she remained pensive and silent.   
Keating shook off his own bemusement, irritation once more   
creasing his brow.

"Is there anything else?"

Feeling Scully's silent question, Mulder gave a slight shake of his   
head. She turned back to Keating, gravely professional.

"That's all for now, Dr. Keating. If anything else comes up, we'll   
be in touch." They all stood, Scully still holding the chart. "If   
you've no objections, I'd like a few more minutes to go over   
Jessica's test results."

With freedom in sight, Keating could afford to be expansive. "Not   
at all, not at all. Feel free to use my office for as long as you like,   
and to make yourself a copy of that chart, if necessary. If you leave   
it on my desk, I'll make sure it's returned to records in the   
morning."

*In other words, you'll order some overworked nurse to take it down   
for you.* Mulder extended his hand, smirking inwardly.

"Thank you for your assistance, Dr. Keating."

He waited until he was certain Keating was out of earshot before   
allowing himself a look into Scully's eyes. The turmoil he saw   
more than matched the churning in his gut. He opened his mouth to   
speak, but she beat him to it.

"I know what you're going to say, Mulder."

"Coincidences, Scully. You know how I feel about them."

"I agree, it seems beyond mere chance that the same brain tissue   
responsible for Jessica's epilepsy should be the tissue missing after   
her abduction. But at this point I'm inclined to think it has little   
bearing on Claire's case."

It was there, on the edge of conscious thought, hovering just out of   
reach. Something important, something he'd heard or seen... A key   
that could possibly open the door to all the answers they sought.   
Mulder turned and braced his palms on Keating's desk, letting his   
eyes slip shut as he tried to concentrate, to follow the wisp of   
smoke to its source.

"Mulder." Scully's fingers, somehow freed from the chart, kneaded   
the knotted muscles at the base of his neck. "I want to connect the   
dots as badly as you, but we have to take care not to draw lines that   
don't exist."

Normally soothing, her hands and words were an irritation, a   
distraction. He ground his response through clenched teeth. "They   
*are* there, Scully. We just aren't seeing them."

"Everything we've learned here will serve Claire, should the need   
arise. Even knowing which treatments failed, that the Tegretol and   
Zarontin had no effect..."

Like a raised shade in a dark room, the memory returned in one   
glorious burst of light. Mulder spun on his heel so quickly he   
nearly knocked her off her feet.

"That's it! *That's* what I've been trying to recall. Scully, do you   
remember Kira's reaction when you showed Talbot the prescription   
bottles?"

Scully gazed at him blankly for a moment before her brow   
furrowed with concentration. "She was surprised...worried, too, I   
guess."

"Exactly. Because she recognized the Zarontin. She not only knew   
the name, she was familiar with its purpose."

Scully's frown deepened as she searched her own memory. "That's   
right. She called it an anticonvulsant."

"A pretty technical term--don't you think?"

Scully's eyes widened. "You think Claire is an epileptic? Grey's   
never mentioned it, and she's never shown any sign."

Mulder began to pace--no easy feat in the small office. "If she'd   
pretty much outgrown it, like Jessica, why would he?"

"It's not exactly an uncommon childhood ailment. The symptoms   
are so mild they can easily be mistaken for a limited ability to   
concentrate."

Mulder abruptly stopped moving. "What if this is our answer,   
Scully? What if that little piece of seemingly damaged brain tissue   
is more than meets the eye? What if it's the reason the kids were   
abducted?"

Scully gaped at him for a moment before shaking her head.   
"You're getting ahead of yourself. We don't even know if Claire   
and the other kids were epileptics."

"Then we need to find out. As soon as possible."

His cell phone punctuated his words with a sharp trill. He   
absentmindedly punched the button, his mind traveling 60 miles an   
hour in the opposite direction.

"Mulder."

"We've got news."

The lack of telephone foreplay sent Mulder's stomach on a long,   
slow roll. "What is it, Frohike?"

"Those other kids that went missing the same time as your   
brother's niece? Four of them are back."

"Details."

"Sketchy so far--we're working on it. From what we're seeing,   
they're being returned in the same order they were taken. We've   
been monitoring all the hot spots, figuring the rest will keep   
showing up in the same sequence."

"Any word on their conditions?"

"In every case so far, EMTs were called and the kids taken to the   
hospital. Langly was able to hack into admittance records for the   
first two." A slight hesitation. "They list the kids as being   
comatose on arrival."

Mulder gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take a steadying breath   
before answering. "I need everything you can dig up, Hickey.   
Police reports, witness testimony... If you get me a list of the   
hospitals, Scully can call and use her badge number to access   
patient records." Dryly. "Legitimately."

"Got it covered. I'll have Langly email ASAP."

"Keep in touch."

"One more thing you should know. The kids are turning up close to   
wherever they were when they disappeared. One of 'em was even   
back in her own bed. The mother was seriously freaked when she   
walked into the room and found her daughter sleeping as if nothing   
had happened." He cleared his throat. "Uh, until she tried to wake   
her up, that is. Maybe you'd better make sure your brother has   
someone watching the house."

"I'm on it. Thanks."

Scully laid a hand on his arm as he disconnected and then began   
rapidly punching in Grey's number. "Some of the children have   
been found?"

"Four. All comatose." Mulder grimaced, hating the sharpness of   
his reply. "The guys think they're being returned in the same order   
they were taken."

"Detective McKenzie."

"Grey, it's me."

"Fox? You in Boone?"

"Yeah. We're done here, we should be on the road shortly." He   
watched Scully tense, then slump in resignation.

"Tonight? I thought you were going to get a room. That's a helluva   
long trip to make this late."

"We'll mainline some caffeine. Listen, Grey, I need you to do   
something for me."

"Anything, Fox. You just gotta ask."

It warmed a spot inside of him that he'd feared would never thaw.   
His lips curved and a little of the tightness eased in the aching   
muscles along his spine.

"I need you to have someone keep an eye on Kira's place. Twenty-  
four hour surveillance."

A pregnant silence as he sensed Grey examining his request,   
turning it over and over like a child with a new toy. "What do you   
know that I don't know?"

"Do you remember me telling you that some other kids went   
missing the same time Claire did? Well, a few of them have been   
returned."

"What do you mean? Did they catch who did it?"

There were so many answers to that question, none of them   
conducive to healing the rift between them. Mulder sighed. "No.   
All I'm saying is that I think there's a good possibility Claire could   
turn up, and if she does it will be close to home. Just trust me in   
this, will you? It's not going to cost you anything."

Another long pause, and he knew Grey was biting back his own   
string of retorts. Finally, his brother let out his own gusty sigh. "All   
right. I'll see who I can spare."

The flood of relief left him exhausted and nearly giddy. "Thank   
you."

Grey's voice dropped until it was little more than a murmur. "You   
think we're going to find her soon, don't you? That's why you're   
driving home tonight."

The phone felt slippery in Mulder's grip. "Yeah. I do."

"I hope to hell you're right." His wistful tone turned businesslike.   
"Be careful. Some of those roads can be tricky in the dark."

"We will." He was about to hang up; caught himself. "Grey?"

"Yeah?"

"This is going to sound strange, but... Is Claire epileptic?"

A sharp intake of breath. "What in the... How did you know that?   
Did Kira mention it?"

Goosebumps broke out, tingling along his arms and legs. "No. Are   
you saying she is?"

"*Was* is more like it. It was always pretty mild, and she hasn't had a   
seizure in over a year. Kira doesn't give her medicine for it   
anymore." His voice sharpened. "Why, Fox? What does it have to   
do with anything?"

"Not over the phone. I'll explain when we see you."

A trace of Grey's dry wit returned. "I'll be looking forward to it   
with bated breath."

"See you in a few hours." He disconnected, still reeling from the   
impact of Grey's confirmation.

"Claire has epilepsy?" Scully studied his face as he pocketed the   
phone.

"Had. Sounds just like Jessica; their symptoms even disappeared   
about the same time. It's the link, Scully. I know it."

"We'll get a clearer picture when we can compare the other kids'   
medical records." She ran her hand down his arm, taking his hand.   
"You've done all you can for now."

Mulder rubbed at eyes burning with emotion and fatigue. "Maybe   
so. I just wish I didn't get the feeling this has been the easy part,   
Scully. That the really hard part's yet to come."

Her only response was a tightening of the fingers tangled with his.   
Somehow, though, it was more than enough.

 

Interstate   
1:58 AM

 

Scully sipped her coffee, blinking gritty eyes. She eased the   
styrofoam cup into the holder, careful not to disturb the man   
sprawled bonelessly against her shoulder. She'd taken possession   
of his car keys at the last rest stop, firmly ignoring protests that he   
was perfectly able to drive. Within ten minutes, darkness and the   
rhythmic hum of tires on pavement had lulled him to sleep. An all-  
to-brief respite before the ordeal that lay ahead.

She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and rolled her head,   
steeling herself against her own weariness. Mulder's soft, even   
breathing and warm weight against her side was a seductive   
invitation to join him in slumber. Not an option, if they were going   
to make it back to Raleigh in one piece. Thank God they were   
within an hour of their destination.

The high-pitched warble of his cell phone, abnormally loud in the   
silence, startled her. Her hands jerked inadvertently to the right,   
briefly swerving the car onto the shoulder of the road with a spray   
of gravel before she caught herself. Mulder jerked upright as if the   
tone carried an electrical charge, fumbling in his pockets until he   
produced the offending device. His voice was thick and heavy with   
sleep.

"Mulder."

She read the caller's message in his rigid posture and the tight,   
carefully controlled tone of his voice. Depressing the gas pedal,   
she increased the car's speed to well past the posted limit. Mulder's   
announcement, when it came, brought no surprise. Only bitter   
resignation.

"Claire's back. She's been taken to Raleigh Community Hospital."

She gave a short nod, keeping her gaze focused on the road as she   
sent up a silent prayer.

*Dear God, help Claire. Help us all.*

 

Raleigh Community Hospital  
Friday  
3:16 AM

 

She was so small. 

Pale as the sheet beneath her cheek, tousled curls spread across the   
pillow, the hospital bed and machinery dwarfed her already slight   
frame until she appeared impossibly frail and tiny.

Mulder chewed on his lip, throat tightening as he watched Kira   
press Claire's limp hand to her cheek, weeping. Peripherally, he   
was aware of Scully's hushed consultation with the doctor, Grey's   
agitated pacing, and Kristen's gentle attempts to soothe. But he   
couldn't seem to tear his gaze from the poignant tableau on the   
other side of the glass.

Scully's hand at the small of his back startled him from   
contemplation. He turned to face her, abruptly struck by her   
shadowed eyes and the lines of weariness around her mouth. He   
inwardly berated himself for acquiescing to her demand that she   
drive the final leg of the trip back to Raleigh. They were both   
skating on the edges of exhaustion, but with her medical expertise,   
Scully held the crucial role in what lay ahead. 

He smoothed a disheveled lock of hair behind her ear. "Let me   
guess--she's a mirror image of Jessica Chapman."

"Tests are still being run, but, yes, her condition is remarkably   
similar to that of the Chapman girl. Right down to the mysteriously   
excised brain tissue. And get this, Mulder. The missing tissue is   
from the cerebral cortex, near the parietal lobe."

Mulder's eyes narrowed. "Like Jessica."

"The location is practically identical." Scully gazed over his   
shoulder, then away, swallowing. "Dr. Hsu has graciously offered   
me the use of a conference room and fax machine. I need to review   
data on the other children as soon as possible. Perhaps by   
determining which treatments have failed--"

"What other children?"

Scully looked up sharply, surprised to see Grey standing just   
behind Mulder, Kristen at his side. His piercing gaze was that of a   
drowning man.

"I need you two to be straight with me. I can see you know   
something about what's wrong with Claire."

Mulder and Scully exchanged a long look before Mulder spoke.   
"Are you certain you want to hear this, Grey? Because you haven't   
up till now."

Grey huffed, shrugging off Kristen's hand and pacing several steps   
down the hallway before returning. He ran his fingers through hair   
that appeared to have received the same treatment many times, and   
laughed bitterly. "Did I mention that she was found inside a locked   
house? Lying in her bed, not a single broken seal on the doors and   
windows, the damn crime scene tape intact? 'Course, you already   
know the best part. The Houdini who performed that little magic   
trick also managed to remove part of her brain without leaving a   
single mark on her."

His voice cracked and he ducked his head, throat working   
convulsively. Kristen made an abortive motion to touch him before   
dropping both hands to her sides. When he resumed speaking,   
Grey's voice was very soft.

"I know how this sounds--even I can recognize the irony. I've been   
a bastard ever since you got here, when all you've tried to do is   
help. I've pissed on your theories, Fox, and even now...even now I   
can't completely accept what you believe. He raised his head and   
stared into his brother's eyes, tone hardening. "But I'll do anything  
\--*anything*--to save that little girl."

Mulder met his gaze without flinching. "So will I, Grey. That's   
why I'm still here."

"Then tell me. Tell me everything."

With another quick glance at Mulder, Scully launched into a   
detailed synopsis of their investigation thus far. Grey's face   
remained impassive until she described Jessica Chapman's return   
and its outcome.

"Dana, are you trying to tell me there's nothing to be done for   
Claire? That her brain will eventually just...self-destruct? Because   
I can't accept that. I won't."

Scully opened her mouth to respond, but Kristen beat her to it.   
"Slow down, Grey. You know they would never give up without a   
fight. Dana's saying they've found a pattern. And that studying the   
pattern, and what happened to those other children, might be the   
key to saving Claire." She looked from Scully to Mulder. "Am I   
right?"

Mulder's eyes filled with gratitude as he tapped his nose with his   
index finger.

Grey's expression softened as he slipped an arm around Kristen's   
shoulders, but the fingers of his other hand still drummed   
nervously against his leg.

"If what you say is true, if Claire's condition is identical to that   
other little girl's, then we don't have time to waste. Mark is with   
forensics at the house. My parents are downstairs getting coffee   
and something to eat for Kira. Help me out here, Dana. There must   
be *something* I can do."

Mulder's prior concern for Scully's exhaustion was reinforced   
when she fumbled for a response. He knew for a fact she'd only   
dozed in the car, and neither of them had consumed more than   
coffee and a few cookies since lunch the day before. 

"There is." He ignored Scully's frown, choosing to focus on his   
brother instead. "Scully has to be the point person for reviewing   
the hospital records of the other children. But she's not going to   
make it through even one chart unless she has a decent meal that   
consists of something more than sugar and caffeine." He cocked a   
challenging eyebrow at her when she began to demur. "Shut up,   
Scully. I've listened to this lecture so often I know it by heart--this   
time it's my turn. Kristen can help you get set up in the conference   
room and Grey and I will get us all something to eat." He   
grimaced. "It's been a long night, and I'm afraid it will be an even   
longer day before it's over."

Scully folded her arms but her gaze warmed him. "It's good to   
know you've been listening, Mulder. I must admit, I've had my   
doubts."

"That's the best you can come up with for me to do?" Grey flashed   
Scully an apologetic grin. "Don't take that the wrong way, darlin',   
you know I'm more than willing to help you. I was just hoping for   
something a little more, I don't know..."

"Manly?" Kristen filled in sweetly.

Grey gave her a wounded look--one Mulder had a sneaking   
suspicion he himself had used many times. 

"C'mon." He tipped his head toward the elevator and started   
walking down the hallway. "If it helps, I'll let you carry   
everything."

"Very funny." Grey took a few steps; hesitated. "Aren't you going   
to ask Dana what she wants?"

Mulder didn't bother turning around. "A cup of yogurt, the closest   
thing that passes for a bran muffin, and coffee--one cream."

Grey's head swiveled back to consult Scully, who imitated   
Mulder's earlier gesture with a tap to the nose. He turned to   
Kristen, who was observing the entire exchange with fascination.   
She shrugged with a sidewise grin at Scully.

"Make it two, I guess."

By the time Grey caught up, Mulder had pressed the button and   
was leaning against the wall, waiting. A strained silence descended   
until the elevator doors rumbled open, discharging Grey's parents   
and two nurses. Mulder accepted a distracted kiss from Grey's   
mom and a handshake from his dad, allowing his brother to field   
their anxious questions about Claire's condition. After a flurry of   
conversation, they headed for the ICU, and Mulder and Grey   
boarded the elevator.

Mulder folded his arms and propped himself against the back wall,   
watching from beneath his lashes as Grey studied the floor   
indicator. His brother's right foot tapped a staccato beat, his fingers   
first opening and then closing into fists.

"You have to stop blaming yourself."

Grey peered over his shoulder with a scowl. "Huh?"

"Nothing you could have done would have helped find Claire any   
sooner, or changed her condition. You haven't failed her, Grey. Or   
the rest of your family, for that matter."

His brother's eyes were wounded, but he lashed out in anger.   
"What the hell would you know about it?"

Mulder tilted his head, one corner of his mouth lifting. "Me? I   
wrote the book."

A soft chime and the doors slid open. He walked past Grey, who   
seemed stunned into immobility. Thanks to the graveyard shift,   
the cafeteria was quiet, populated with only a handful of doctors   
and nurses. Plucking an obnoxiously orange plastic tray from the   
stack, Mulder slid it along the track, collecting vanilla yogurt, a   
generic, whole-grain muffin, and an enormous cheese Danish   
oozing enough fat and cholesterol to put Scully in lecture mode.

"Living on the edge, huh?"

Startled, he looked up to find Grey peering over his shoulder at the   
pastry in question. Though a part of Mulder appreciated his   
brother's attempt to reproduce their usual banter, his harsh words in   
the elevator still stung. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Grey ignored the rebuff. "So much for the lecture on good   
nutrition. Dana's gonna kick your butt when she sees that invitation   
to a heart attack on your plate."

Mulder sourly jerked a thumb at Grey's tray, where a bagel rested   
beside Kristin's muffin, amused in spite of himself. "Coward."

"Let's just say I know what's good for me."

Mulder sighed and placed the Danish back on the shelf. "All right,   
hand me one of those. But I'm having cream cheese, damn it."

Grey made the switch, expression smug. "Atta boy." 

As Mulder started to fill two large styrofoam cups with coffee,   
Grey cleared his throat. "Fox...about what I said a minute ago. I   
didn't mean it."

Mulder carefully snapped the first lid into place; reached for a   
second. "Forget it."

"No, I..." Grey's hand covered the cup, arresting his movement. "If   
anyone understands, it's you."

The corner of Mulder's mouth turned up. "Scully says we Mulders   
have a corner on the market for guilt. I've begun to see her point."

Grey dropped his hand and fiddled with his own cups. "Say what   
you will, but in this case a great deal of it is deserved. I never   
should have insisted on running this investigation. I've done   
nothing but spin my wheels." He raised his eyes to Mulder's. "And   
alienate the people closest to me."

Mulder stared at him for a moment, oddly numb despite the words.   
*Too little, too late.* The thought pierced him with a brief pang of   
regret but he brushed it aside. *Things can never be the way they   
were, but at least we can salvage something.* 

"You've done what you thought was right, and you've never had   
anything but Claire's best interests at heart. Let it go, Grey. I have." 

Sensing his brother's dissatisfaction with the response, Mulder put   
an end to the conversation. He transferred Grey's food onto his   
own tray and carried it over to the cashier, letting Uncle Sam pick   
up the tab. They walked back toward the elevator without speaking   
until Grey stopped, eyes narrowed.

"How did you know about Claire's epilepsy, Fox? You promised   
you'd explain."

"Now? I kind of have my hands full." Mulder indicated the tray he   
carried.

Grey silently reached over and took it from him, eyebrows raised.   
"Better?"

"Loads." Mulder tried to gather his thoughts, grateful when the   
elevator arrived empty. "What do you want to hear--what I think,   
or what I know?"

Grey eyed him. "How 'bout starting out with what you know?   
Maybe we can work up to the rest."

"Fine. Jessica Chapman and Claire both suffered from a mild form   
of epilepsy marked by occasional petit mal seizures. The   
symptoms were extremely innocuous, just 'phasing out' for short   
periods of time, a loss of mental acuity. Both girls had outgrown   
the condition about a year before they were abducted."

"Go on."

"An examination of the girls' MRIs shows that in both cases the   
excised brain tissue was from the area that had caused the   
epilepsy."

Grey leaned back against the wall, obviously stunned. "You're sure   
about that?"

"Yes."

The elevator stopped to admit a doctor and an elderly couple. Grey   
and Mulder rode the rest of the way to their floor in silence, though   
Mulder could feel sparks of tension coming off his brother like   
static electricity. As they debarked, he braced himself for the next   
round. Grey didn't disappoint.

"I don't know how this nightmare could get any crazier. Tell me   
the rest. Tell me what you're thinking."

Mulder caught a glimpse of a deserted waiting room from the   
corner of his eye. Reclaiming the food tray, he strode over and set   
it down atop a magazine-littered table, then waved Grey toward a   
chair.

"Sit down."

Grey eased himself onto the hard plastic, making a face. "Great.   
It's that bad, huh?"

Mulder paused in the act of reaching for a chair. "You want to hear   
this or not? Make up your mind, Grey, because I'm tired of taking   
your crap."

Grey blinked, disconcerted. "Sorry."

Mulder pulled over the chair, straddling it with his arms resting   
across the back. Took a deep breath. "I think the medical reports   
on those other kids are going to show that they were epileptic, too,   
just like Jessica and Claire, and that they were returned in the same   
condition. I think that little piece of brain tissue is the common   
denominator, the key to why these kids were taken. I think that   
where we see a group of damaged cells, whoever--*what*ever--took   
those kids sees something entirely different, something of great   
significance." He paused, momentarily forgetting his brother as his   
thoughts turned inward and he followed his own line of reasoning.   
"Something that has them fascinatedÖor maybe just threatened."

When Grey didn't reply, Mulder pulled himself back from   
contemplation. His brother was staring at him, face pale. Mulder   
sighed, scrubbing at tired eyes with the heels of his hands.

"You asked for it." Weariness turned his voice to a raspy mutter.   
"There it is."

Grey leaned forward, elbows propped on knees. "You think the   
children posed some kind of threat to whoever did this?"

Mulder met his gaze. "I think the brain tissue is important to them.   
Important enough to outweigh the risk involved in getting it."

Grey buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. A touch of   
hysteria colored his soft drawl. "Sweet Jesus, this can't be   
happening. Aliens, spaceships, cosmic brain surgery... It's like   
some kind of bad joke." He looked up at Mulder with shell-  
shocked eyes. "But you wanna know the funniest part of all, Fox?   
You're gonna love this... 

"I'm starting to believe you."

 

Raleigh Community Hospital  
Friday  
10:04 AM

 

At first he didn't realize she was asleep.

He'd breezed into the room carrying a fresh stack of faxes in one   
hand and slurping coffee from a cup in the other. Mr. and Mrs.   
McKenzie had ducked out for some fresh air and breakfast, leaving   
Grey and Kristen to sit with Kira until their return. Without their   
presence, the conference room had drifted deeper and deeper into   
silence, the rustle of papers and scratch of pens magnified by the   
stillness. 

Scully was seated at the table, chin cradled in her palm and   
medical records spread out before her like a paper feast. Mulder,   
back from a quick circuit that had included the fax machine, fresh   
coffee, and a check on Claire's condition, rounded the table and   
plopped into a chair, adding the new medical records to a pile near   
her right elbow.

"I think that's about it. Last fax came in..." He caught himself when   
he glimpsed her face. Leaning closer, he used one finger to smooth   
back the spill of hair obscuring it. A faint line between her closed   
eyes gave the impression Scully was puzzling over files even in   
her sleep.

Mulder tucked the hair behind her ear, stroking her cheek with the   
pad of his thumb. "Scully."

Despite his care she awoke with a start, pen skittering across the   
table as she reached for her watch. "What time is it?"

He couldn't help smiling, despite his concern. "A little after ten.   
You just drifted off for a few minutes."

She blinked, then stretched, rolling her head from side to side with   
a little groan. "My eyes are beginning to cross. When we finish this   
case I never want to see another MRI again." She perused his   
hands, expression hopeful. "Coffee?"

Mulder handed her the cup with a flourish. "I got one extra large   
cup. Figured we could share."

She somehow managed to communicate disapproval while   
practically chugging the contents. "Mulder, do you have any idea   
how many germs there are in the human mouth?"

"Baby, I love it when you talk dirty to me, but now isn't the right   
time."

She rolled her eyes but didn't surrender the cup. 

Mulder slithered down in the chair until he could rest his head on   
the back, long legs stretched out beneath the table and butt   
precariously hanging off the seat. He stared up at the ceiling. "Sum   
it up for me, Scully. What have we got so far?"

She picked up her glasses and slipped them on, peering at her   
notes. "We've received medical records for seven of the ten   
children abducted six months ago. Nine of the fourteen abducted   
three days ago have been found. We have preliminary records for   
six of them."

"And what are the records telling us, Doctor Scully?"

"You should know--you've been reading over my shoulder the   
whole time."

"Humor me."

She sucked in a deep breath; let it out slowly. "All the children   
suffered from a mild form of epilepsy which they appeared to have   
outgrown within a year prior to being abducted. In every case, the   
damaged cells that caused the epilepsy were located on the cerebral   
cortex near the parietal lobe. And in every case, that same section   
of tissue was missing when the children were returned--" she shut   
the folder in front of her--"comatose."

"No incisions," Mulder said quietly. "No scars."

"No damage of any kind. Mulder, the removal of that tissue, as   
horrifying as it may seem, could not be responsible for the massive   
amount of electroconductivity we're seeing in the childrens' brains.   
It doesn't make sense."

Mulder sat up, running his hand over his stubbled jaw. "I have an   
idea about that."

A twinkle lit Scully's tired eyes. "I'll bet you do."

He made a face but continued. "Something was used to extract the   
brain tissue from these kids, Scully. An instrument far beyond the   
scope of our understanding--beyond the understanding of any   
physician on this planet."

"You think the instrument itself caused their condition?"

"I think an instrument designed with alien technology is bound to   
have some nasty side effects on a human brain."

Scully nodded, expression pensive. "So even though it excises the   
tissue with a minimum of physical trauma, it severely disrupts the   
electroconductivity across the cerebral cortex."

"Exactly."

"Which still leaves the million dollar question unanswered."

"Why they want the tissue in the first place."

"Exactly."

Mulder stood and began pacing. "I've been thinking about that, too.   
Why would a seemingly harmless collection of cells be of interest   
to beings so technologically superior to us? Is it valuable to them?   
A threat?"

Scully frowned. "Wait a minute, Mulder. When did these kids stop   
being alien guinea pigs and start being a threat?"

"The stakes have changed, Scully. These children aren't random   
test subjects destined for a life as multiple abductees. They're   
targeted specifically for that one small area of their brain that sets   
them apart from the rest of us. A clump of cells that is then   
brutally, efficiently ripped from them without regard to the   
consequences."

"What you're saying might make an odd kind of sense but for the   
fact that those cells are useless, Mulder. Worse than useless.   
They're damaged tissue that caused the children's brains to   
malfunction--until they eventually adapted."

Mulder jerked to a stop, staring at her intently. "Adapted?"

"So to speak. As a psychologist, I know you're aware that we   
actually utilize a very small percentage of our total brain cells. In   
mild cases such as these children had, the brain sometimes   
manages to adapt, bypassing the damaged area. Almost as if it   
rewires itself."

"Or evolves." Mulder muttered the words to himself.

"What?"

"Scully, suppose that tissue isn't just a collection of bad cells. What   
if it's some kind of...switch, that hasn't been flipped yet."

"You've lost me."

"You said the kids didn't experience the muscle spasms and loss of   
bodily control characteristic of a full blown seizure, correct? That   
they'd simply phase out for a short time, lose touch with their   
surroundings."

"Put simply, yes."

Mulder sucked in his bottom lip, hand drifting up to touch the back   
of his head. "Almost like they're tuned into something else. Sounds   
familiar, doesn't it?"

Scully sucked in a sharp breath. "Are you suggesting that the   
children's seizures were actually episodes similar to what you   
experienced after exposure to the artifact?" She shook her head.   
"Mulder that's an awfully big leap, even for you."

"Scully, *you're* the one who made the connection." Seeing her   
perplexed expression, he continued. "You were the one to point out   
that the so-called 'brain storm' we've seen in the returned children   
is similar in nature to the brain activity I experienced at that time."

"True, but that hardly--"

"Bear with me for a minute. What if this thing we're seeing, this   
small area of the brain, is a kind ofÖprecursor to what we saw in   
Gibson Praise?"

"The ability to read minds?"

"And to communicate with the aliens themselves." 

Scully shook her head. "But this is very different from Gibson,   
Mulder. We're talking about one small section of the brain; all of   
Gibson's cells were affected."

"Maybe this is just the beginning, one of the first baby steps on the   
evolutionary scale..." Mulder returned to his chair in three quick   
strides, a light growing inside him. "We know there are different   
alien factions, Scully, and that one of them was against anything   
that might result in a pollution of their race. Removing the brain   
tissue now could interrupt the evolutionary process, halting the   
development of more human beings with Gibson's abilities."

Scully stared at him for a long moment before letting her head drop   
onto the seatback with a soft groan. "I need a shower and about 48   
hours of sleep. Mulder, only you could make a connection between   
epilepsy and... Oh my God." Her head popped up and for a   
moment Mulder got the distinct impression she was looking not at   
him, but through him.

"What is it?"

She licked her lips. "Max Fenig. He assumed he was an epileptic   
because of something done to him during one of his abductions.   
But Mulder...what if that was WHY he was abducted?"

One corner of Mulder's mouth turned up. "That's an awfully big   
leap, Agent Scully."

"Why should you have all the fun?" She sighed, shoulders curling   
inward. "This is all well and good, Mulder, but it doesn't solve the   
problem at hand."

"Curing Claire."

Scully nodded, gesturing to the piles of faxes. "I've been through   
these records with a fine-toothed comb. A variety of treatments   
have been employed to restore normal brain function--some   
creative, some practically incompetent. Nothing has had the   
slightest effect on the child's condition." She pulled off her glasses   
and rubbed her eyes. "Mulder, time's running out. And I haven't the   
faintest idea how to help that little girl."

"Guess that answers my question."

They both turned, startled. Grey stood in the doorway, his   
expression unreadable. He walked slowly over to sit on the edge of   
the heavy oak table. Up close, Mulder could see how hard his   
brother was working to maintain control.

"Claire is having trouble breathing. They just put her on a   
ventilator. Mom and Dad are on their way back."

Mulder glanced over his brother's shoulder. "Kristen?"

"She's staying with Kira until they get here. I wanted to come and   
get Dana, thought maybe she could talk to the doctor."

Mulder looked over at Scully; saw the shine of tears before her   
eyes slipped shut.

"I'm so sorry, Grey." The tears colored her voice, as well. "I've   
looked through every test result, every piece of documentation, and   
I just can't see..."

Mulder reached for her, but Grey's hand was there first, tucking her   
tangled hair behind her ear with great tenderness. "You don't have   
to tell me, darlin'. I have eyes." He dropped his hand and it curled   
to a fist in his lap. "Maybe I've been a stubborn fool on this case,   
but I'd have to be blind not to see how hard you and Fox have tried   
to help Claire." He bit his lip and looked away. "Even I can't   
expect you to work miracles."

"We haven't given up. As long as Claire is still alive, there's still   
hope." Mulder said the words with more assurance than he felt,   
wishing he could will them into being. 

Grey's smile touched only his mouth. "I wouldn't expect anything   
less from you, little brother. But I can't help facing facts. Kira's   
facing them, too. I can see it in her eyes when she looks at Claire."   
He ran a hand down his face, eyelashes fluttering. "Maybe it's best   
she be prepared."

Mulder shoved back his chair and lurched to his feet, heart   
thudding. "I refuse to accept that. There has to be something more   
we can do, something right in front of us, maybe, that we're just   
not seeing." He put a hand on Scully's shoulder, squeezing gently.   
"The answers are there. We just have to know where to look for   
them."

She gazed up at him, the barest hint of a smile on her lips, then   
turned to Grey. "I'll be glad to talk to Dr. Hsu. Then I think we'd   
better make some calls and see how the other children are doing.   
There's always the chance one of their doctors has come up with   
something new."

Grey stood, offering her a hand up as she gingerly stretched   
muscles cramped from inactivity. "Thank you. At the very least   
you can translate the medical speak for the rest of us. Dr. Hsu may   
be a gifted neurologist, but..."

"His bedside manner could use some work," Scully finished dryly.   
"I'm all too familiar with the type."

They reached the doorway, nearly colliding with Kristen as she   
rounded the corner from the hallway, clearly agitated. 

"Easy, sweetheart." Grey steadied her, peering more closely at her   
face. "Is Claire all right? Are my parents here?"

"Claire's okay, but I think you'd better come quickly."

"What's wrong?"

"You know the officer you stationed outside the ICU, just in case?"   
When Grey nodded, Kristen continued. "He's holding some guy   
who's demanding to see Claire. Say's he's her father."

 

Intensive Care Unit  
Friday  
11:32 AM

 

"You have no right to keep my from seeing my own child! Now,   
either use that gun or get the hell out of my way."

Steve Talbot's voice echoed down the corridor, belligerent and   
crackling with fury. They turned the corner and found themselves   
immersed in barely contained chaos. A uniformed cop stood in   
front of the ICU doors, arms folded and face impassive as he   
absorbed the brunt of Talbot's righteous indignation. Dr. Hsu   
cowered in the cop's shadow, clearly unsure what to make of the   
man, while a several nurses hovered nearby.

Grey quickened his stride, reaching Talbot just as he appeared   
ready to give the officer a shove. "Back off, Steve. Officer Larkin   
is just doing his job. Which, it so happens, is protecting your   
daughter."

Steve whirled and directed his fury toward Grey. "I'm her father,   
for God's sake. Claire doesn't need to be protected from *me*."

Larkin, a blond cop in his early thirties, scowled up at Grey. "Sorry   
for the commotion, Detective. I tried to explain to this guy"--he   
cocked a thumb at Talbot's chest--"that access to the little girl is   
restricted, but he was too bullheaded to listen."

"Thanks, Pete. I'll handle it from here." Grey gave the man a slap   
on the back with a smile that disappeared when he turned to   
Talbot. "Follow me."

"You might have had the decency to call, let me know Claire had   
been found." Talbot shouldered Mulder out of the way and caught   
up to Grey as they passed through the doors to the ICU. 

"I've been busy." Grey growled the words through gritted teeth.   
"Evidently you figured it out."

"I tried to track Kira down at the station to see if you'd made   
progress. Somebody there told me what had happened." Talbot   
seized Grey's arm, stopping him. "Don't jerk me around, Grey.   
How is she?"

Grey glared at the restraining hand, lips parted to deliver a sharp   
retort. And then he seemed to really look into Talbot's eyes. After a   
moment's hesitation, he silently tipped his head toward the large   
glass window that looked into the ICU. Claire lay in the nearest   
cubicle, surrounded by tubes and wires, small chest rising and   
falling with mechanical precision as the ventilator breathed for her.

All the color drained from Talbot's face, and he swayed on his feet.   
"Oh my God. What's happened to her?"

Grey shook his head, gaze riveted on his niece. "We...we're not   
sure."

"Not sure?" Two quick steps and Talbot had buried his fists in   
Grey's shirt, dragging him forward until their faces were a hair's   
breadth apart. "What do you mean you're not sure? Three days ago   
that was a normal, healthy little girl! Who did this to her? What in   
the hell have you been doing about it?"

Mulder grabbed the distraught man by the collar of his shirt and   
dragged him off his brother. "Come on. What do you think he's   
been doing--sitting around twiddling his thumbs? He loves her   
too."

Talbot struggled, fighting to break Mulder's hold. No one noticed   
Kira stand up and hurry out of the cubicle.

"Steve? Steve, what's going on?"

At the sound of her voice, Talbot went limp. Mulder released him   
with a little shove and he stumbled toward her. "Kira, I'm sorry, I   
just wanted to..." The words trailed off to a whisper as his gaze   
returned to Claire. "What's wrong with her?"

Kira turned swollen, red-rimmed eyes onto Grey, her expression   
almost apologetic as she took Talbot's hand. "Come on in. I'll   
explain as best as I can."

Talbot spoke in hushed tones as he allowed her to lead him into the   
cubicle, meek as a child. "Can she hear us?" 

A core of steel lurked beneath Kira's weary reply. "The doctor says   
no, but I don't believe him."

Mulder and Scully exchanged a long look--she recalling hazy   
dream images of a rowboat on a solitary lake, he remembering an   
endless night of rambling monologues and the whisper of nurses'   
shoes. He brushed his hand down the length of her arm until their   
fingers were touching though not entwined, his voice pitched for   
her ears alone. "Neither do I."

"Grey. Let it go." 

Kristen's calming words pulled them back to the situation at hand.   
Grey was glaring through the glass, jaw and fists clenched, as   
Talbot took a weeping Kira into his arms. 

"Son of a bitch. I ought to..."

"But you won't." Kristen softened the hard edge to her voice with a   
hand on his arm.

Grey bristled. "You don't understand, Kris. You weren't around   
back then, you didn't see--"

"Then. Not now." Kristen stepped between him and the window,   
forcing him to see her. "This isn't about what *you* need, Grey; it's   
about what *Kira* needs. She's a big girl; she can decide for herself.   
Let it go."

Grey laced his arms across his chest. "Easy for you to say."

Kristen shook her head with a bitter little laugh. "With the mood   
you've been in? You really think so?"

It pulled Grey up short. He let out a long, gusty sigh and reached   
over to brush a lock of hair off her shoulder. They stared into each   
other's eyes, his lips slowly curving into a faint smile.

"No. I think it's a job I wouldn't wish on anyone."

"Amen."

Mulder grunted as Scully elbowed him in the ribs but the gibe   
lifted the tension. The ICU doors swung open, admitting Dr. Hsu   
and Grey's parents. Grey turned hesitantly toward Scully.

"Dana, would you mind...?"

"Of course not."

"Kristen and I will wait right here." Mulder's gesture encompassed   
the cubicle where Kira and Talbot were now seated beside Claire's   
bed. 

Grey nodded, understanding the subtext. "Thank you."

Silence descended once Grey and Scully had moved off to speak to   
the doctor. Mulder focused on a nurse as she moved about Claire,   
checking her vitals and jotting equipment readouts onto the chart.   
His relationship with Kristen until now had been cordial but   
superficial--unlike Scully, who had formed a close bond with the   
agent while he and Grey were on the camping trip from hell.   
Despite better intentions, the current strain in his relationship with   
his brother left him uncomfortable in Kristen's presence.

"He's really broken up over what's happened between you."

It took a moment for Kristen's soft voice to penetrate his thoughts.   
Mulder darted a sharp glance at her face before forcing his   
attention back to Claire. He hoped his silence would convince her   
to let the matter drop. Too late, he recalled Grey's descriptions of   
her tenacity.

"He's afraid you've decided to shut him out of your life. That   
you've made up your mind, and nothing he can say or do now is   
going to change it."

His answer sounded wooden, even to his own ears. "A little   
distance can be a good thing. He'll come to see that, eventually."

"He already has."

It pierced his defenses, tearing him in places already raw from   
Grey's rejection. He'd sucked in an involuntary gasp before he   
could reassemble a passive mask.

"At least we can agree on that much."

Pulling the same trick she had on his brother, Kristen stepped   
between Mulder and the glass. He was stunned to see fury in her   
green eyes. "He thinks it's good for *you*, Mulder. Not for himself."   
Ignoring his poleaxed expression, she plowed on.

"He knows he's hurt you--badly. And he doesn't want to be   
responsible for inflicting that kind of pain again." She reached out   
a tentative hand to touch his arm. "You can put things back where   
they belong. It's not too late."

A headache began to build behind his right eye, fueled by fatigue   
and emotion too long repressed. Mulder massaged the bridge of his   
nose, desperately wishing he'd tagged along with Scully and Grey.

"There's too much you don't know, Kristen." He met her gaze   
squarely, anger beginning to eclipse the pain. "Too much you   
could never understand."

Her own temper flared. "I understand more than you think. I fought   
with my father before school one morning, Mulder, a real knock   
down, drag out. Stomped out of the house swearing I'd never speak   
to him again." Her eyes fluttered shut; she shook her head. "I never   
dreamed a car accident would prove me right." When she opened   
her eyes, the anger had turned to deep sorrow. "Not a day goes by   
that I don't wish I could make things right."

Mulder shifted uneasily. "I'm sorry about your father, but--"

"This is different. Sure." She sighed and stepped away, freeing him   
to return to his vigil. "Look, I know you and Grey have history,   
Mulder. You spent the first three decades of your lives without   
each other, I guess you can spend the next three the same way."   
She chuffed a humorless laugh. "What I can't figure out is why   
you'd *want* to." When he didn't respond, she sighed again. "I'm   
going to get a drink of water. Tell Grey-- Never mind, I'll tell him   
myself."

Mulder listened to her footsteps, the slap of rubber on linoleum, as   
he stared sightlessly at Claire's still face. The hollow, gnawing   
ache in his gut, no longer assuaged by files and theories, welled up   
like bitter acid in the back of his throat. *Put things back where they   
belong.* His breath caught raggedly in his chest, a sound   
somewhere between a laugh and a sob. If she only knew how much   
he wished he could.

There was a time when he'd grown so accustomed to rolled eyes   
and veiled insults that he barely registered them. Chalk it up to the   
wildly inaccurate rumor mill, professional jealousy, even simple   
inability to think outside the box--why he'd fallen from golden boy   
to monster boy really didn't matter. He believed in what he was   
doing, the importance of the work, and he'd convinced himself that   
was enough.

Then came Special Agent Dana Scully, forensic pathologist and   
would-be Consortium tool. He'd expected her to be beautiful and   
sexy--his weakness for pretty women wasn't exactly a well-kept   
secret. He'd suspected she would be brilliant--her thesis was damn   
impressive, and besides, his enemies were wise enough to realize   
that anyone less than his intellectual equal would never last the   
week. 

What had knocked him on his ass, the one thing he--and they--  
never could have predicted, was her respect. 

He'd had to earn it, of course. Dana Scully never gave away   
anything for free. She'd indulged in her share of rolled eyes and   
incredulous laughter. But she'd listened, really listened, to his   
crazy, off-the-wall theories--challenging, debating, refuting. And   
the work had benefited.

That she'd given him her love as well as her respect was a precious   
gift he was still learning to accept.

He hadn't realized the addictive nature of that one-two punch until   
the last disastrous few days. That Grey seemed able to give him the   
one but not the other was a bitter pill to swallow. Five years ago   
he'd have taken what his brother had to give, grateful and   
unquestioning. But loving Scully had changed him, shown him he   
deserved more. Settling for less felt worse than just going through   
the motions. It felt like a lie.

Unpalatable for a man who'd dedicated his life to the truth.

"Hey." 

Scully's warm fingers encircled his wrist, causing him to   
practically leap from his skin. He looked down into worried blue   
eyes and a furrowed brow, reactions to whatever she saw in his   
face. Consciously slowing his breathing, he sent her an apologetic   
grimace. She studied him for a moment longer, then, with a quick   
glance over her shoulder, took his hand and tugged him down the   
hallway. 

"Mulder, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." A raised eyebrow and pursed lips prompted him to   
qualify the statement. "Nothing new, anyway."

She conceded the point but not the match. "Kristen seemed upset."

He sighed through clenched teeth. "Kristen has developed a Bob   
Vila complex." At Scully's mystified look he added, "She wants to   
fix everything."

"Ah." Scully pressed gentle fingers to the flesh above his right eye.   
"Headache?"

Mulder blinked. "Mindreader?"

Her mouth quirked, though the concern lingered in her eyes. "You   
squint a little. Dead giveaway."

"I'll have to remember that."

Scully trailed her fingers back through his hair before lowering her   
hand. "She's not the only one, you know, Mulder?"

He had to replay the conversation to pick up her thread. Despite his   
inner turmoil he felt more amusement than annoyance. "Yeah, I   
know. She's just not as subtle."

"Let's head back to the conference room. I can fill you in on   
Claire's condition while I hunt for some aspirin in my briefcase."

She'd barely finished speaking when pandemonium broke loose in   
the cubicle behind them. Two nurses wheeled a crash cart to the   
bedside of a middle-aged man whose heart monitor was emitting   
the shrill beep and erratic green line signaling cardiac arrhythmia.   
Within seconds a doctor rushed onto the scene and began directing   
the ordered chaos while a white-faced woman stood to one side,   
tears running down her face.

Mulder watched as the nurses stripped off the hospital gown,   
clearing the way for the doctor to apply defibrillator paddles to the   
patient's chest. The man's upper body arced off the mattress from   
the jolt of electric current, wringing an audible sob from the   
woman. Still, the monitor shrieked its warning and the green line   
jittered and jumped.

"Mulder?"

Scully had taken several steps down the hallway before realizing   
she'd left him behind. She frowned, irritated by his apparent   
distraction.

"Mulder, let's go. We..."

He dimly acknowledged the drone of Scully's voice as some kind   
of drug was injected and the paddles applied a third time. The   
green line stuttered for a moment longer, then settled into steady,   
rhythmic spikes. Mulder turned away from the flurry of smiles,   
tears, and congratulations, his own heart hammering as if it might   
burst.

"Mulder?" Fear, rather than annoyance, now sharpened Scully's   
question.

He waved her aside, tuning out all external distractions as he   
latched onto an idea so big, and yet so incredibly simple, it seemed   
too good to be true.

Could it work? 

What did they have to lose?

"Mulder! What is it, what's going on?"

He slowly raised wide eyes to her face. "I think I've figured it out,   
Scully. I think I know how to save Claire."

 

Raleigh Community Hospital  
Friday  
3:26 PM

 

"You wanna run that by one more time?" Grey's soft drawl   
verbalized the incredulity mirrored on every face in the room.   
"You're suggesting we *what*?"

An unwelcome sense of deja vu washed over Mulder. Combined   
with an excess of fatigue and lack of decent food, it left him off   
balance and disoriented. For a moment he was back in the BSU, a   
rookie profiler pitching theories that whizzed like fastballs over the   
senior agents' heads. 

He blinked, shaking off the images and focusing on Grey. "You   
heard me."

"What we've heard is sheer nonsense. " Dr. Hsu stood just inside   
the doorway, having refused a seat at the large conference table.   
"Worse than nonsense--it's dangerous. Embarking upon such a   
course of action would be criminally negligent." He transferred his   
glare from Mulder to Kira. "Agent Mulder has no medical   
expertise, just a wild theory. You can't seriously be considering   
such a crazy, unconventional--"

"*Doctor* Mulder is an Oxford trained psychologist." Scully spared   
Hsu only a passing glance, addressing herself to those at the table.   
"He has more than a passing acquaintance with ECT and its impact   
on brain function. I suggest we hear him out."

This from the woman who had argued vehemently with him when   
he'd first shared his epiphany. That she would back him up, despite   
her own reservations, lifted Mulder's flagging spirits. He tipped his   
chin in a subtle gesture of gratitude before continuing.

"Yes, it's unconventional. So is Claire's condition. And frankly,   
after studying the medical records I can say without qualification   
that conventional methods have yielded nothing but dead children   
so far."

"I know the drugs haven't worked." Kira's voice trembled but she   
sat up straight in her chair, grimly holding on to her composure.   
"But she's still alive; she's still fighting. To take such an enormous   
risk... The treatment could kill her."

"Damn straight." Talbot pulled his hand from Kira's and leaned   
across the table. "Dr. Hsu is right; what you're suggesting is crazy.   
I'm not going to let you try to jump-start my little girl's brain like   
some kind of dead battery."

"What you're gonna do is sit back and keep your mouth shut."   
Grey's voice was excruciatingly calm. Dangerous. 

Talbot rounded on him. "Like hell I will! I'm her father, Grey. I   
have the right--"

"You lost any rights to Claire when you walked out five years ago.   
I let you sit in on this meeting as a favor to Kira, but so help me   
God--"

"Stop it! Both of you!" Scully's command silenced them. She   
glared at Talbot, then Grey. "It's time you two stop this senseless   
bickering and start thinking about Kira and Claire." When both   
men looked sufficiently chastised, she nodded for Mulder to   
continue.

"Your jumper cable analogy, however graphic, is inaccurate." He   
directed his words to Talbot with as much patience as he could   
muster. "Claire's brain is not dead--just the opposite. It's   
functioning at a level impossible to sustain. We can wait for the   
inevitable burn out. Or, we can intervene."

"By pumping electricity into her brain." No longer confrontational,   
Steve's reply held sullen disbelief.

"By using electricity to re-establish a normal pattern of   
electroconductivity across the cerebral cortex. Unconventional,   
yes. Risky, certainly. But perhaps the only hope for reversing   
Claire's condition."

Hsu grunted derisively. "I'm telling you now, I want no part of   
this...this madness. If you choose to pursue this course of action,   
you will do so without my participation." A piercing look at Kira, a   
scowl for Mulder, then Hsu turned on his heel and left.

Mulder waited a beat before continuing. "Fortunately, we don't   
require Dr. Hsu's cooperation. Scully and I have already talked to   
Dr. Pratt, who heads up the psychiatric wing. We've shown him   
Claire's chart, as well as the records for the other kids. Despite his   
own reservations, he's agreed to perform the procedure."

Grey lifted an eyebrow. "He has?"

Scully glanced at Mulder with pursed lips before replying. "So   
long as we provide a signed consent form exempting him from all   
liability."

Mulder leaned back in his chair, palms up. "It's up to you now,   
Kira. Only you can decide how we proceed."

Kira bit her lip, eyes welling with tears. "I'm holding my baby's life   
in the palm of my hand. One word from me could determine   
whether she lives or dies. No mother should be forced to make   
such a decision."

Scully's voice was very, very soft. "Perhaps not, Kira. But then   
again, that kind of decision is the very essence of motherhood."   
Mulder looked at her sharply but she refused to meet his gaze. 

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Kira shook her head and   
scrubbed at the tears on her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Fox. I know you   
mean well and that you truly believe this will work, but it's damn   
unorthodox and just plain dangerous. If Claire died from the   
procedure I'd never forgive myself." Her voice broke. "Or you. I   
have to get back to Claire; my parents will wonder what's keeping   
me." She shoved back her chair and practically fled from the room.

Talbot stood more slowly. "Maybe you do mean well, Agent   
Mulder. But I'd feel lot better if you stayed away from my   
daughter."

No one spoke for several minutes after Talbot's exit. Mulder rose   
and paced the length of the room, hand cupping the back of his   
neck. Eyes moving back and forth, Scully watched him, her   
expression a mixture of empathy and apprehension. Grey stared at   
the tabletop, tracing invisible patterns with his fingertip. And   
Kristen stared at Grey.

Grey finally looked up at his brother. "Kira's just trying to do   
what's best for Claire, Fox. It's a pretty radical idea; I don't think   
she was ready for it. Don't take it personally."

Mulder laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Personally? Nah. This   
is Spooky you're talking to--remember?"

"This doesn't have anything to do with--"

"The hell it doesn't!" Mulder slammed his palm against the   
tabletop, startling Grey to silence.

"Mulder..."

He rounded on Scully, past caring where he directed the anger and   
frustration. "You can't possibly understand what it's like to see...to   
*know* things that other people can only begin to understand. I'm   
sick of shouting out the truth like a damn prophet only to have it   
fall on deaf ears, or worse..." He trailed off, the fire in his eyes   
dying as he turned back to his brother. "To see that look. The one   
somewhere between pity and contempt. God, I'm tired of that   
look." He drew one hand down his face, shaking his head. "I have   
to get out of here. I need some fresh air."

Scully was by his side before he'd taken three steps, one hand on   
his arm. "I'm coming with you."

Mulder frowned. "Look, Scully, I..."

She folded her arms; raised an eyebrow. Mulder sucked in a deep   
breath and let it out with a resigned huff. His hand settled   
comfortably in the middle of her back and he guided her toward   
the door.

"After you."

Grey braced his folded arms on the table, dropping his head onto   
them. After several minutes passed he felt gentle fingers at the   
nape of his neck, sifting through tension-damp curls.

"Talk to me, sweetheart. What's going on inside that complicated   
brain?"

He moaned a muffled laugh. "I want a do-over."

Bafflement colored Kristen's response. "What?"

Grey lifted his head. "A do-over. It was a game rule we had when   
we were kids. If the dice fell off the table when you rolled them, if   
you served the ball and it landed on the line--then you got a do-  
over. A second chance to get it right."

Kristen's lips curved and she stroked a lock of hair back from his   
brow. "If only life worked that way."

The tenderness, at a moment it felt least deserved, did him in. Grey   
closed his eyes against the burn of tears. "I've made a hell of a   
mess of things, Kris."

"You've made some mistakes. Nothing that can't be fixed."

"I wish I could believe that."

"Believe it." When Grey opened his eyes and fixed her with a   
questioning stare, she explained. "I talked to Fox this morning."

"About...?"

"About the trouble between you two. About your fear that he's   
shutting you out of his life."

Grey's eyebrows drew together. "What's happened between me and   
Fox is just that, Kristen--between me and Fox. It has nothing to do   
with you."

"You're wrong. It has everything to do with me. For three days I've   
listened to your heart break over this rift between you. I love you,   
damn it! Do you honestly expect me to sit by and do nothing?   
Would you?"

Grey winced. "I see your point." He searched her face. "What did   
he have to say?"

She made a face. "Not much. He fed me a line about the benefits of   
a little distance. Not too convincing, really, since it was obvious he   
didn't believe it himself."

Grey swore under his breath. "He must be the most stubborn,   
pigheaded..." Kristen's pursed lips stopped him. "What?"

"Oh, please. You two are poster boys for the expression 'it takes   
one to know one.'"

Grey tried to feel outraged; gave up. "The point is, he's made up   
his mind. He's constructing walls thicker than Fort Knox."

Kristen leaned in, her voice turning to stone. "The point is, you   
have to change his mind; it will never come from him. He's been   
hurt too many times in his life not to have developed some   
impressive coping mechanisms--namely, making sure you don't get   
close enough to repeat the job."

Grey's eyebrows soared. "Since when did you become an authority   
on my brother? You barely know him."

She snorted. "Since Dana and I spent two days pulling your butts   
out of the fire after that little camping excursion you took last fall.   
Guess we've become closer friends than either of you realizes."

"Obviously." Grey ran his fingers through his hair. "The hell of it   
is that he's been right from the start. It's all gone down the way he   
said it would--Claire's disappearance, the way she was returned,   
even her current condition. Crazy as his ECT theory may be, deep   
down I believe he's really onto something. And yet, even now, I   
can hardly bring myself to admit it."

ìAre you saying you think Kira should have tried the ECT?î

"I'm saying I think it makes a helluva lot more sense than pumping   
her full of drugs. Or sitting around and waiting for her to die."   
Surprise colored his voice. "Yeah. I guess I am." He searched her   
face. "Kris, do you believe in aliens?"

She gnawed on her bottom lip. "I don't know. But your brother   
does. And I've heard enough around the Bureau to understand that   
at least 90 percent of the talk surrounding him is fueled by pure   
jealousy. He's not a fool, Grey. Just a guy who doesn't give a damn   
about what most people think." She ran the backs of her fingers   
down his cheek. "Of course, you and Dana aren't most people."

"Dana told me he believes I don't respect him." Grey chuffed and   
shook his head. "Can't say I blame him, considering the shitty way   
I've treated him. But he's wrong, Kris. I'm proud as hell to be his   
brother."

"Then you need to show him. Words aren't going to get the job   
done."

Grey propped his elbows on his knees and cradled his face in his   
hands. "Sure. Simple. Except how in the hell am I supposed to   
accomplish that?" 

Kristen's hand returned to rest on the nape of his neck but she   
remained silent. He let his eyes close but was unable to shut out the   
memory of his brotherís agonized expression, his earlier words to   
Kristen echoing in his head. *The hell of it is that he's been right   
from the start. It's all gone down the way he said it would--*

He dropped his hands and bolted upright, eyes wide.

Startled, Kristen instinctively recoiled. "Grey?"

"I know." Hope kindled inside him, making his heart beat faster.   
"Kris, I *know* what I have to do."

"What?"

He stood, reaching down to tug her to her feet. "Let's go. I have to   
talk to Kira. Right away."

 

Hospital Cafeteria  
Friday  
5:39 PM

 

He hadn't said a word for at least fifteen minutes.

Scully wrapped her hands around the mug of hot tea, icy fingers   
gratefully absorbing the warmth, and surreptitiously observed the   
taciturn figure across the table. By the time she'd coaxed Mulder   
back into the building, he'd been shivering uncontrollably and her   
toes had turned numb. A trip to the cafeteria for a hot drink had   
driven the chill from their bodies. Mulder's spirits, however, had   
yet to thaw.

Her lips tightened as she took in the dark circles under his eyes and   
the uneaten sandwich on his plate. In just 72 hours, a week's worth   
of rest and relaxation had been undone. He'd poured his heart and   
soul into this case, done everything in his power for Grey, Kira,   
and Claire. His investigative work had been top notch, his   
deductive leaps eerily accurate, yet in the end it made little   
difference. For Mulder, this case could only be about another   
shattered relationship he couldn't repair and another little girl he   
couldn't save.

Frohike's call, informing them that one of the other children had   
died, seemed to have quenched the dying sparks of Mulder's hope.   
He hadn't spoken since.

Scully reached across the table, curling her fingers around his   
wrist. "Mulder--"

"I can't, Scully." When she raised her eyebrows, he jerked a thumb   
at the sandwich. "I can't eat that. Right now I can't eat anything.   
Please don't push, all right?"

"And you call *me* a mindreader?"

A weak smile tugged at his lips. "You've been taking turns   
scowling at me and that plate for the last ten minutes. Knowing   
what you're thinking hardly qualifies as mindreading."

"You've barely eaten all day."

He folded over the table, pressing his forehead to the hand clasping   
his wrist. "Probably for the best, considering."

She sighed, bringing her other hand up to stroke his hair. "You   
can't take this on, Mulder. You did everything Grey could have   
asked, and more."

He looked up at her, cheek nestled against the back of her hand.   
"Claire is going to die, Scully. Whatever good I may have done--it   
wasn't enough." He closed his eyes, but not before she glimpsed   
the shine of tears. "I wish the last three days had never happened,   
Scully. I wish to God I could erase them and just start over."

She could barely speak past the ache in her throat. "We haven't   
seen the end of this yet. Give Kira a little time to think things   
through. She's exhausted and half out of her mind with worry."

Pressing a kiss to her knuckles, he sat up straight. "I said I'd see   
this through to the end, and I will. But I can't lie to you, babe. I just   
want to go home." He slid her empty plate beneath his and slipped   
them onto the tray. "Be right back."

Scully watched him dump their trash in the nearest receptacle, then   
trudge across the cafeteria to return the empty tray. Distracted by   
the slump of his shoulders and her own morose thoughts, the light   
touch to her shoulder drove the air from her lungs in a startled   
whoosh.

"Dana?"

She spun and lurched to her feet, one hand automatically reaching   
for her weapon until she saw who stood behind her.

"Kira. I didn't hear you come up."

"Sorry." Kira's red-rimmed eyes left Scully's face and scanned the   
table. "Where's Fox?"

"He'll be right back. Can I get you something to eat? Some hot   
tea?"

Kira shook her head, not even bothering with the pretense of a   
smile. "No, thank you. I just really need to talk to Fox."

"I'm here." Mulder sent Scully an inquiring look as he detoured   
around the table to stand at her side. She responded with the slight   
lift of one shoulder.

"Fox, I need to talk to you, I..." Kira studied his face, her fingers   
twisting and knotting together. "...I know I kind of ran out on you,   
before, and I didn't want to give you the impression... I'm so   
grateful for everything you've done to help Claire. If I was less   
than...receptive to your suggestion, it's certainly not because I   
think...because I *don't*..."

"Kira." Mulder put his hand over hers, stilling them. "It's all right.   
You don't have to apologize. You're Claire's mother. You have   
every right to decide--"

"Please. Let me finish." She drew in a deep breath and blew it out.   
"I'm not like you, Fox. I believe in what I can see, what I can hold   
in my hand. Taking a leap of faith has never been my strong suit--I   
have a hard time believing in God, let alone aliens. But even I can   
see that whatever happened to Claire defies rational explanation.   
And I think that if anyone can make sense of such a completely   
senseless situation, maybe it's you." Her fingers clamped down on   
his in a bruising grip and her voice trembled with emotion.   
"You've been right about so many things up till now. I just...I have   
to trust you're right about this, too."

Mulder went very still. "What are you saying, Kira?"

She dropped his hand and stepped back, struggling to maintain her   
composure. "I've decided to have Claire undergo the ECT. I've   
already spoken to Dr. Pratt. They're going to be moving Claire up   
to the fifth floor within the next hour." She turned her gaze from   
Mulder to Scully. "He'd like you both to be there."

"Of course." Seeing Mulder was still struggling to assimilate Kira's   
news, Scully gave her a reassuring smile. "We'll be right up."

"Thank you. I'd better get back. Steve's...having a little trouble   
accepting all this."

She turned to leave, but Mulder caught her elbow. "Kira, wait."   
When she faced him once more, he released her. "I'm just   
wondering... What changed your mind?"

A wry expression crinkled the corners of her eyes. "There's no   
mystery there, Fox. My big brother can be very convincing when   
he believes he's right."

She turned and walked back toward the elevators, oblivious to the   
stunned disbelief she'd put on his face.

 

Waiting room  
7:12 PM

 

Mulder found his eyes straying to the wall clock for the third time   
in ten minutes. Nearly half an hour had passed since Claire, Kira,   
and Scully had disappeared behind the double doors to the   
psychiatric wing. Time seemed to have slowed to a snail's pace,   
every tick of the clock fueling his rising anxiety and impatience.   
From what he could see, Grey, his parents, and Steve Talbot were   
faring no better.

Across the room, Talbot resumed pacing, casting baleful glances in   
Mulder's direction and muttering under his breath. He'd been   
roaming the small room like a caged tiger for most of the past 20   
minutes, his agitation only exacerbating Mulder's nervousness.   
And evidently Grey's, as well. His brother ignored Talbot for   
several minutes, then pinched the bridge of his nose. Mulder   
tensed, expecting trouble. 

"Steve, do us all a favor? Sit down and shut the hell up."

Grey's words, amazingly, held weary resignation rather than   
animosity. Unfortunately Talbot, strung tighter than a bow, didn't   
hear the difference. Two quick strides and he was standing over   
Grey.

"Fuck off. You expect me to just sit and twiddle my thumbs, not   
knowing what's happening to my little girl? This is *your* fault,   
Grey. Anything happens to Claire, and so help me God, I'll--"

Grey slowly stood up. His lip curled and his voice dropped to a   
dangerously intimate level. "You'll what? Knock me around like   
you did Kira? Go ahead, Steve. Let's see how you do against   
someone your own size."

Mulder moved to separate them, but was outstripped by Grey's   
father, who wedged himself between the two men, expression   
stern.

"That's enough. Last time I checked they didn't allow brawling in   
this hospital. If you two aren't careful you'll be waiting out on the   
street." He gave Grey a look that said he expected more from him,   
then placed a hand on Talbot's shoulder. "Steve, everyone in this   
room wants the best for Claire. Casting blame is not only pointless,   
it's unfounded."

Steve shrugged off the touch, face twisted with anger and grief.   
"Why can't you all see how ridiculous this is? You won't listen to   
me, but you'll take advice from a guy that hunts aliens for a living.   
And you..." He stabbed a finger in Grey's direction. "You're the   
reason things have gotten so out of control. Kira never would have   
agreed to this...this *treatment*...if you'd've kept your mouth shut.   
There's nothing unfounded in--" He broke off with a pained cry,   
grabbing his head and crumpling.

Grey and his father caught hold of Steve's arms, easing him onto   
the linoleum as his eyes rolled back in his head and his limbs   
twitched and spasmed. Mulder knelt beside them, loosening the top   
button of Talbot's shirt.

Grey watched him, face pale. "What the--?"

"The tumor." Mulder ground out the words as he shoved aside a   
chair. "He's on medication for seizures, remember?"

Grey watched Talbot's body jerk and twist. "What do we do?"

"Nothing." Mulder stole a quick look over his shoulder; saw Grey's   
mother approaching with a nurse in tow. "Just make sure he doesn't   
hurt himself."

By the time medical personnel arrived, the spasms had ended,   
leaving Talbot dazed and semi-conscious. Mulder gave the young   
woman a brief rundown of Talbot's medical condition as she   
checked his vital signs. Once she was satisfied he had stabilized,   
she fetched an orderly to help her move him down to the ER.

"We'll run a few tests; make sure nothing else is wrong," she told   
them as Steve was carefully strapped to a gurney for transport.   
"He'll probably just need to sleep for a while. If, as you say, it's   
due to the tumor, there's really not much we can do but provide a   
place for him to rest and keep an eye on him."

"We'll come along." Grey's mother looked to her husband for   
confirmation. When he nodded, she turned to her son. "We'll be   
back as soon as Steve gets settled. Tell Kira--"

"I will." Grey looked at Talbot, pity darkening his eyes before he   
glanced quickly away. "I'll track you down if there's any news."

Once Talbot's little entourage had left, Mulder reclaimed his chair.   
His brother, however, remained standing, forehead creased and   
teeth gnawing his lower lip. After several minutes had passed and   
Grey showed no signs of moving, Mulder cleared his throat.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I just..." Grey sounded far away. Distracted. "I guess   
I was so worried about Claire, it never sank in."

"Steve dying?"

His brother nodded, shame flushing his cheeks. "To be honest, up   
until now I've barely given it a passing thought. And when I did..."   
He winced. "The only thing I felt was relief."

Mulder chose his words carefully. "He's not exactly the easiest   
person to like."

Grey snorted. "Tell that to Kira." He sighed; scrubbed a hand   
across his stubbled jaw. "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd   
feel sorry for the bastard."

"Lack of sleep, stress--I'm sure the past few days have aggravated   
his condition. It's not really surprising that he's feeling the   
repercussions. In fact, it's possible some of Steve'sÖanger   
management issues could be traced to this tumor."

Grey walked over and dropped into the chair beside Mulder. "It's a   
helluva way to die." He turned his head to study his brother's face.   
"Fox... Have you wondered if there could be more to Steve's tumor   
than meets the eye?"

"Why--just because Steve and Claire both are suffering from a   
malfunctioning of the cells in their brains?

"Quite a coincidence--huh?"

It coaxed a small smile onto Mulder's lips. "You know what I'm   
gonna say, right?"

Grey's mouth twitched. "I've heard it a time or two, yeah."

The grin faded and Mulder shook his head. "Steve said his tumor is   
located in the parietal lobe, which just happens to be the location   
of the children's epilepsy *and* the area of missing tissue. I can't help   
feeling there is a connection, at least on some level. If Claire and   
the other kids carry the genetic precursor for the abilities possessed   
by Gibson Praise, then perhaps Talbot carries the precursor to what   
they have. Maybe he's one step back in the evolutionary chain."

"So why the tumor? And please don't tell me aliens did something   
to him, too."

Mulder rolled his eyes. "Contrary to what you may think, I don't   
see little green men around every corner." He tipped his head back   
against the wall, thinking aloud. "There's an element of trial and   
error in gene mutation, with natural selection serving to ensure   
only the most desirable traits survive. Maybe Talbot's tumor is   
nature's way of weeding out a less successful attempt." 

He sighed rubbing the heels of his hands into gritty eyes. "We'll   
probably never know--though I'd definitely like Scully to take a   
peek at his medical records when this is all over."

Grey shifted in his chair. "I just hope it's soon. I can't take this   
waiting much longer."

Mulder watched his brother search for a more comfortable   
position, Kira and Talbot's words resonating in his head. Finally,   
he could keep silent no longer.

"Why did you do it?"

Grey's jaw tightened and he glanced away. "What do you mean?"

"Kira told me you were the one who convinced her that Claire   
should undergo the procedure."

"That's right."

"Why?"

When Grey didn't immediately answer, Mulder sat up and turned   
to study him. "We've been at odds over this case from almost the   
moment Scully and I got here. You certainly made no secret of the   
fact you wanted nothing to do with our investigation. Why are you   
backing me now, Grey?" His lips twisted into a grim smile. "Are   
you trying to tell me you've come to believe in aliens?"

Grey's reply was very soft. "No. I can't say that I do."

"Then why go along with this line of treatment; why put your neck   
on the block with Kira and the rest of your family? Talbot was   
right, you know--if Claire dies they will never truly forgive either   
one of us." Mulder shook his head, voice rising along with his   
anger. "If you did it out of regret, as an attempt to fix the trouble   
between us, then you needlessly risked Claire's life. And it doesn't   
prove anything."

"It should prove something to you. But not what you're thinking."   
Grey dropped his eyes to stare at his shoes for a long moment, then   
lifted them to Mulder's face. "I do regret what's happened to us,   
Fox. God help me, if I could take back the words, I would. But   
that's not the reason I talked to Kira."

The honest emotion in Grey's eyes was too much. Mulder looked   
away, blinking hard. "Then why?"

"Because as terrible as the past three days have been, they've   
helped me to understand something. Not that I believe in aliens."   
He chuffed. "Give me some time. It took Dana years--I think I   
deserve at least a week." The laughter faded from his voice. "I may   
not believe in aliens, Fox. But I believe in you."

Mulder sucked in a sharp breath as Grey continued. "You're a hell   
of an investigator. You find patterns, make connections most   
people would never see. And you're willing to look beyond   
established boundaries for the answers you need." He bit his lip,   
shame creeping into his voice. "Even if you wind up taking shit for   
it.

"You were right about this case. Every step of the way. And I   
think...I believe...you're going to be right about Claire. *That's* why I   
talked to Kira."

"You may be sorry." Mulder squeezed the words past the lump in   
his throat, then forced a smile. "Despite what I tell Scully, I'm not   
always right."

Grey's lips curved. "I'll take the odds, little brother."

Before Mulder could find his voice, the double doors swung   
outward, discharging Scully, Kira, and several medical personnel   
pushing a gurney bearing Claire. Mulder and Grey sprang to their   
feet.

"What happened? How is she?" Grey trotted alongside the gurney,   
staring down at Claire's still face.

"Too soon to tell." Kira's hand enveloped her daughter's; she   
looked very pale but composed. "Dana will explain everything,   
Grey. I'll see you downstairs."

Grey let them go, watching until they'd disappeared into the   
elevator. He turned to Scully, hope and fear clouding his face.   
"Dana?"

Scully pursed her lips. "Dr. Pratt delivered the mildest dose for the   
shortest amount of time. And it appears to have worked. The post   
treatment EEG shows a drastic reduction in electroconductivity."

"But?"

She lay her hand on his arm. "Claire's brain has suffered a   
prolonged period of extreme stress to the neurons and synapses. It's   
too soon to tell if there will be irreversible damage."

Mulder frowned. "What exactly are you saying, Scully?"

Her eyes drifted closed and she shook her head.

"Dana?"

When she looked up, Scully's eyes glistened with tears. "Claire's in   
a coma. We're not certain she'll come out of it." 

 

Raleigh Community Hospital  
Saturday  
6:16 AM

 

*Coffee.*

Grey's nose twitched. He sucked in a deep draught of the rich,   
steamy fragrance, forcing heavy eyelids to cooperate. Bleary eyes   
focused first on the styrofoam cup suspended just beneath his chin,   
then on Dana's smiling face. Accepting the cup from her hand, he   
smothered a yawn before taking a sip. Hot and strong, it chased a   
few of the cobwebs from his head. A larger swallow and he heaved   
a contented sigh.

"Darlin', you are a goddess."

She offered him a little smirk and raised her own cup. "Nope. Just   
a fellow addict." Her gaze cut over to the couch where his brother   
lay sprawled across the cushions, motionless. "Do I need to check   
for a pulse?"

Grey chuckled and patted the chair beside him. "Trust me, he's   
fine. I can see his chest move from here."

"Where's Kristen?" Scully took the proffered seat and nudged the   
loafers off her feet, wriggling her toes.

"Having some breakfast with my folks. I wasn't hungry."

She cocked one eyebrow, lips tightening. "You're as bad as   
Mulder. Both of you are going to wind up hypoglycemic before   
this is over."

"Speaking of which... Did you talk to the doctor?"

Annoyance gave way to a genuine smile. "He's cautiously   
optimistic. Claire continues to show an increasing amount of brain   
activity. The EEG indicates something in the neighborhood of four   
to six cycles per second. If the improvement persists, she should   
wake soon."

Grey felt a goofy smile take over his face. "Coffee *and* good news.   
Definitely a goddess."

Scully held up one hand, obviously struggling to control her own   
enthusiasm. "There's still the possibility of brain damage. We   
won't know for sure until she regains consciousness."

"But you don't think so." Grey scrutinized her expression, looking   
for any sign of apprehension and finding none. "You think she's   
going to be all right. Don't you?"

"I think Claire's overloaded neurological system came dangerously   
close to self-destructing. And that the coma is her brain's way of   
shutting down for repairs."

Grey turned to look at his brother, something like awe creeping   
into his voice. "He did it again, didn't he?" He shook his head.   
"Even when the situation looks hopeless, he finds a way. He's a   
regular Houdini--put him in a locked room and he manages to   
conjure up the key."

Scully pursed her lips, unable to hide the twinkle in her eyes.   
"Mulder's methods rarely involve the front door, Grey. A more apt   
analogy would be to say he crawls out a window." She chuckled.   
"One that nobody knew existed."

Grey shook his head, one corner of his mouth turning up. "ECT.   
Nobody but Fox would come up with such a crazy...brilliant idea.   
We owe him Claire's life."

"I've been in touch with the other hospitals, detailed Claire's   
treatment and the results. So far it seems to be achieving similar   
success with the other children." 

"That's great, Dana. Really great."

He leaned back in the chair, aware of her sharp, assessing gaze as   
he continued to drink his coffee. Deliberately ignoring it, he smiled   
inwardly and waited for her to ask.

"Things have changed between you. Again."

He let the smile seep onto his face. "I hope so. How could you   
tell?"

"We haven't had much chance to talk, but..." She gestured at Fox's   
sleeping form. "He's relaxed for the first time in days. It's as if a   
weight has been lifted from his shoulders." She looked at Grey   
from the corner of her eye. "I didn't think it was simply relief over   
Claire."

"Upstairs, in the waiting room, we had a talk." Grey set his empty   
cup beside his chair, wincing. "Well, I did most of the talking, I   
guess."

Scully's lips thinned. "I'm glad to hear it."

Grey snorted. "Yeah. Amazing how clearly you can see things   
once you take your head out of your ass." Her chuckle warmed   
him, giving him the strength to continue. "I'm sorry, Dana. If hard   
times are a test of character, then I'm afraid I've failed. Miserably. I   
hope you both will eventually be able to forgive me."

Her small hand pried open his clenched fist and curled around his   
fingers. "You made a rocky start, Grey. But when push came to   
shove, I'd say you ended well."

Grey lifted their joined hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I'd   
say you're being generous. More than I deserve."

"*I'd* say you're kissing my wife. Back off, Bubba."

Grey gave Scully's hand a squeeze and released it, watching his   
brother roll to a sitting position. Clothing disheveled and cheek   
creased by the couch, Mulder ran his hands through sleep-tousled   
hair and feigned a scowl.

Grey chuckled. "Better me than you. I've seen road kill in better   
shape, little brother."

"Looked in a mirror lately? I've got serious competition."

"None of us is exactly fresh," Scully observed dryly. "I'm having a   
hard time remembering when I last saw a shower."

Mulder stood and stretched, then shifted with a grimace. He pinned   
Scully with a reproachful pout. "At least one of us had a *complete*   
change of clothing in the overnight bag."

"Did I forget something when I packed?" Scully was all wide-eyed   
innocence. "I'm sorry, Mulder. We were in such a rush..."

Grey's gaze flitted between them, a slow grin taking over his face.   
"I've warned you about her, Fox. This is a dangerous woman."

"You have no idea."

The patter of running footsteps, and a moment later Kira appeared.   
Flushed and breathless, her eyes glowed with happiness and tears.   
"She's awake! I had to step out while the doctor checks her over,   
but she seems fine, more than fine, she asked where she was and   
she...she complained that she's hungry..." Kira's gush of words   
ended in a sob and she threw her arms around Mulder's neck.   
"Thank you."

Mulder blinked, his arms slowly coming up to return the embrace.   
"You're welcome."

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned, latching onto Grey, who   
had come to stand beside her. "And you." She lay her cheek   
against his and murmured into his ear. "You saved me from   
making a terrible mistake." Stepping back, she grabbed hold of his   
hand. "C'mon. I know she'd like to see you."

Grey allowed himself to be drawn down the hallway, casting a   
questioning look over his shoulder.

Mulder waved him on. "Go ahead. We'll go home and get cleaned   
up, see you back here a little later." He smirked. "Wouldn't want to   
scare the poor kid."

As they watched them disappear down the hallway, Mulder draped   
an arm around Scully's shoulders. Sliding her own around his   
waist, she leaned in to his side. "Everything's going to be all right   
now."

He kissed the top of her head. "Yeah."

Tilting her chin up, she looked into his eyes. "You did it, Mulder."

He grinned, tightening his embrace. "Nope. *We* did."

 

133 Waterbrook Lane  
Monday  
7:46 PM

 

The atmosphere was positively festive. Grey's parents and his   
sister Shannon regaled Kristen with stories of Grey's childhood   
exploits while Shannon's husband, Rob, rode herd over their two   
children, chasing them away from the soda. Scully and Kira sat in   
the corner with heads together, discussing everything from Claire's   
recovery to the novels they were reading. Grey and Steve, his   
condition stable for now, were eating chips and checking   
basketball scores, coexisting peacefully, for once. And presiding   
over it all, set up on the couch like a small queen, Claire nibbled   
pizza and soaked up the attention.

Mulder, ever the willing slave, delivered her third cup of soda,   
perching on the edge of a cushion when she coaxed him with big   
brown eyes.

"You feeling all right, slugger? Sure you're not too tired for all   
this?"

Claire rolled her eyes. "I wish people would stop asking me that.   
I'm fine, Uncle Fox." She looked up at him, lips parted as if about   
to speak, then pressed them together.

Mulder nudged her with his shoulder. "What?"

"It's nothing."

"Funny. Didn't look like nothing." He nudged her again. "Give."

She peered at him from beneath her lashes. "Promise you won't get   
mad?"

"You gonna call me names?"

"No."

"Use four letter words?"

A giggle. "*No.*"

"Then I promise I won't get mad."

She fiddled with her blanket for a moment, picking at a frayed   
edge. "Did your sister really get taken away by aliens?"

He felt his jaw drop. "I... Where did you hear that?"

"Mommy and Uncle Grey were talking once when they didn't   
know I was around. Uncle Grey said your little sister disappeared   
when she was eight, and that you believe aliens took her." She   
studied his expression carefully. "Do you?"

He kept his reply calm and matter-of-fact, though he had a feeling   
he knew where Claire was headed. "Yes. Yes, I do."

Her brow furrowed as she considered his answer, teeth gnawing   
her upper lip. Several minutes passed, and he'd just begun to hope   
he'd dodged the bullet, when Claire spoke again. "Is that what you   
think happened to me?"

He choked out a laugh. "You hear an awful lot, don't you?"

"Is it?"

Mulder's eyes swept across the room, but no help was forthcoming.   
All around him people continued to eat, chat, and laugh,   
completely oblivious to the fact that an eight-year-old girl had just   
backed him into a corner. He met Claire's gaze squarely.

"Yes."

If she was upset by the confirmation, she didn't show it. "I don't   
really remember very much."

"What do you remember?"

She squinted a bit, as if trying to decipher a picture in her mind.   
"Light. A really bright light, except... Instead of being warm, it felt   
cold." She shivered, her expression too old for her years.   
"Whoever took me away, I don't think they liked me very much."

Mulder tucked the blanket around her with unsteady hands. A   
dozen responses flickered through his mind, but he discarded them   
all. In truth, Claire's observation seemed eerily accurate. 

She watched him, face solemn. "You know what's not fair, Uncle   
Fox?" When he raised his eyebrows, she continued. "They gave me   
back to my mommy. Why didn't they give your sister back to   
you?"

The familiar pain pierced his heart, though its edges were blunted   
by old secrets revealed and new relationships forged. Mulder   
managed a smile at her childish outrage. "Lots of things aren't fair,   
sweetheart. But I'm really glad you're here now, and safe. And that   
you're going to stay that way." He tweaked her nose and was   
rewarded with another giggle. "I believe that, too."

Claire's cousins, Patrick and Amanda, chose that moment to bound   
up to the couch. Patrick thrust a box onto Claire's lap while his   
sister perched on the coffee table.

"Hey, Claire, wanna play Monopoly? You can be the dog."

Amanda, remembering her manners, smiled up at Mulder. "You   
can play too, Uncle Fox. Patrick called dibs on the race car and I've   
got the shoe, but you could be the hat."

Mulder grinned. "You know, it's been a long time since I've had an   
offer that tempting, but I think I'll go have another slice of pizza   
instead. Maybe I'll catch the next game."

He wandered into the kitchen, grateful for a respite from the   
commotion of the living room. Bracing his palms on the counter,   
he stared out the window at the backyard. Moments later arms   
encircled his waist and something soft and warm draped itself   
along his back, coaxing a smile onto his lips. Scully.

She pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. "What's the going   
rate on thoughts these days?"

He shrugged. "Not sure, but I doubt they're worth the investment."

She moved to his side, peering up at his face. "Mulder, when you   
leave a party to brood in an empty room, I'm all ears."

"I'm not brooding."

Her raised eyebrow communicated more clearly than words what   
she thought of his evasion. Mulder chuckled, in spite of himself. 

"I'm not, really. I just... I had a talk with Claire a few minutes ago."

"And?"

He finally turned to face her, lip caught between his teeth. "It   
reminded me of all the children who didn't make it home. Claire's   
right--it isn't fair."

"That must have been some talk."

"She's some kid."

"She is. And she's home now, alive and well. As are eleven of the   
thirteen other children taken when Claire was. They're going to get   
their driver's licenses, go to the senior prom, fall in love... All   
because of the work you did--" At his warning look, she amended,   
"--we did--on this case. Do you hear what I'm telling you,   
Mulder?"

"That we've ensured years of sleepless nights for their parents?   
Ow!" He rubbed his ribs where she'd punched him. "All right, all   
right. I'll stop brooding."

"Thank God for that." Grey stepped into the kitchen, giving Scully   
a wink. He jabbed a finger at his brother. "Only you could get   
morose in the middle of a party."

Mulder folded his arms, feigning an air of injury. "You know, I   
don't have to stand here and take this. I was invited to join a very   
high stakes game of Monopoly. They're even saving the hat for   
me."

Grey chuckled. "I wouldn't if I were you. I've played with that   
crowd and they're a ruthless bunch. Plus, Patrick cheats."

Scully chuffed. "Sounds like a near miss, Mulder."

Grey sobered, studying their faces. "You know, we don't have to   
stay. You two look tired, and you've got an early flight."

A silent consultation with Scully, and Mulder shook his head.   
"We'll hang around a bit longer. After all, I still haven't heard half   
those stories your folks are telling Kristen."

Grey groaned.

Scully kissed Mulder's cheek and pulled away. "I told Kira I'd   
bring her something to drink. Are you two coming?"

Grey glanced at his brother. "We'll be there in a minute." Once   
she'd left the room, he cleared his throat, eyes dropping to the tile.   
"Fox, I... I wanted to talk to you before you left."

"Okay." Mulder frowned at his brother's obvious discomfort.   
"Grey?"

Grey looked up. "I just need to know... Are things okay between   
us?"

Mulder considered carefully before replying. "Yeah. Yeah, they   
are."

Grey's whole body relaxed. "I'm glad."

Mulder grinned. "You know, I'd almost forgotten what it was like   
to fight with a sibling." He ran his hand along the yellowed bruise   
on his jaw and cocked an eyebrow. "I can live without it."

Grey was oblivious to his attempted humor. "Me too." He sighed.   
"This is important to me, Fox. I spent a lot of years wondering   
what it would be like to have you in my life. I don't want to mess it   
up."

"You haven't." Mulder shook his head. "Maybe even the opposite."

Grey's face twisted in confusion. "Come again?"

"Look, the last three days have been hell. There've been times I   
thought we should just pack it in, call it quits. But I think we both   
learned something about each other, Grey. And that maybe we've   
come through this better. Stronger." A pause. "You might even say   
we evolved." He chuckled softly at his own joke.

Grey eyed him warily. "Why do I get the feeling I don't know what   
the hell you're talking about?" He held up both hands. "Never   
mind. I don't want to know." He tipped a thumb toward the living   
room. "What do you say we check out that Monopoly game? See if   
we can catch Patrick cheating?"

Mulder pushed himself off the counter, grinning. "I'd say that's the   
second best offer I've had all evening." He stretched out his arm   
with a flourish. "After you, Bubba."


End file.
